Not Her
by hoshiakari7
Summary: "I'm… I'm… a prostitute. I'm one of Snow's many. I defied him, so as punishment he killed my family and forced me into prostitution," Katniss whispers through trembling lips, tears trickling from her eyes. / Peeta POV
1. Chapter 1

Hello everybody! So... where to begin?

While I was writing the ending chapters of my last fic, the plot for this one came to mind. "_What would happen if Katniss was forced into prostitution like Finnick was?_" I thought to myself. Not to mention that I'd been on a Moulin Rouge kick and got inspired by that as well. So this came to fruition. I churned several chapters out, revising them religiously. But after a while I got bored and got struck with yet another idea for a Katniss/Peeta fanfic and started writing _that_.

But I am back again and I'd really like to finish before continuing the other one, so here I am. I'm unsure of how many chapters this one will have, but it will most definitely be less than my Date with Panem's Golden Boy. I have an idea of where I want to take this and so I'm hoping that I don't hit writer's block. But if any of you have any ideas of what you'd like to see, let me know! I'm more than happy to incorporate your thoughts into this. :)

As much as I'd love to update several times a week, I'll only be able to do it twice a week since I'm still in the process of writing the story. Like the last one, any mistakes will be mine as I don't have a beta.

Also, this story will mostly be from Peeta's point of view. I know I got a lot of requests for his POV in the last story (since I was mostly doing it from Katniss') so I'm hoping ya'll like that.

I don't have anything else to say other than I hope you enjoy. :D

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

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"Ladies and gentlemen, it is our privilege to present to you the winner of the 74th Hunger Games… Peeta Mellark!" I hear the announcer roar.

I walk into the limelight, a timid smile on my lips as I wave at the zealous crowd. My expertly styled blonde hair gleams brilliantly, creating a contrast against the impeccably fitted black tuxedo Portia chose for me. I continue to wave at the crowd when a microphone is suddenly thrust into my hands. I stare at it for a moment, unsure of what to do with it; but I finally lift it to my lips and to my complete amazement, the room goes quiet.

"My dearest ladies and refined gentlemen. What an honor it is to be here in the Capitol, as your victor. It's a feat that as someone from District 12 would never think to be possible again. Yet here I am, standing amongst the elite; the best of the best, the cream of the crop. I'm incredibly thankful for all of your support because without you, I would be nothing. Worse than nothing, I would be dead. I hope everybody has a good night!" I smile genially as the cameras flashes go off in my face, walking off the stage.

The crowd once more goes wild with applause and several people approach me, shaking my hand and asking to take pictures with me. I finally excuse myself and make my way toward where my mentor, Haymitch Abernathy, is standing.

"How did I do?" I whisper as I take a glass of something bubbly from a waiter who passes by.

"You moved me to tears, kid," Haymitch answers wryly, taking a deep drink from his own glass.

I control the urge to roll my eyes but eye the liquid in my mentor's glass.

"What are you drinking?" I ask, sniffing the liquid in my own glass delicately.

"Dunno, don't care," he answers gruffly, shrugging a shoulder stiffly.

I frown at him and then take a look around the crowded ballroom. Couples are dancing, drinking and laughing merrily, as if they don't have a care in the world. I'm unsure whether to feel disgusted or grudgingly impressed.

"Wait, didn't you tell me I was going to meet the other District 12 mentor tonight?" I turn back to Haymitch, excitement swirling in my stomach.

"Ah, yes. She's probably around here somewhere. Never one to miss these types of parties," he tells me, swishing the liquor around in his glass.

"Remind me… why wasn't she able to mentor me too? I thought there was nothing more important than the Games," I ask, taking a careful sip of the concoction in my glass.

Haymitch's face darkens as he turns to look at me.

"Only one thing is more important… she was occupied elsewhere. I know nothing else, so don't ask," he answers me briskly.

I stare at my mentor, unsure of what he's talking about but oblige nevertheless.

_Something important must have come up or else she would've had to mentor me. Should I pretend that I don't know her? I haven't seen her in so long... but I can't wait to see her again. Surely she must be here somewhere, Haymitch himself just said so. Is she hiding from me? Don't be ridiculous, Mellark. You're blowing your importance to her out of proportion._

"I'm going for a walk… you're no fun," I joke, setting down my barely touched drink on a table.

For the most part, I manage to dodge having repeated conversations with people altogether, just smiling and waving at them as I walk past. I feel my stomach rumble and decide to give the food a try. But before I can even reach the massive silk-covered tables of food, something sparkly catches my attention from the corner of my eye.

I turn and see that it's only the diamonds strung upon the many necklaces resting against a woman's neck. My eyes flicker up to her face, feeling my breath catch in my throat. The woman is stunning; her olive skin is luminescent, as if it has a glow from within. A few curls of her dark chocolate hair frame her face, highlighting her sharp cheekbones. When she turns, I notice that the rest of it is gathered behind her head and that a cluster glimmering stones are neatly woven into the bun, where a fountain of curls spill from. A mysterious smile plays on her painted ruby red lips as she listens to a man next to her tell a story of some sort, undoubtedly trying to impress her.

It's then when her eyes find mine that I feel a jolt of something I can't quite name strike my heart. She has the most striking silver eyes, surrounded by dark fringe of lashes that are undoubtedly coated with makeup, but that doesn't take away from their dazzling beauty. Her eyes observe me curiously and I can swear that she almost smiles. But it's over all too soon for her eyes turn cold and she looks away, smiling widely at something the other man next to her said. I feel disappointment trickle through my body as she laughs merrily with the gentlemen in her company.

Still, I can't bring myself to take my eyes off of her. There's something about her… I find her strangely familiar. Of course, I doubt that I've met her before since she doesn't look like anybody I know back home.

_This is no time to be a coward. I'm a victor, for crying out loud. Gather your wits, Mellark. It's just a woman. The most beautiful woman your eyes have seen, that is._

I gather two glasses of champagne and walk toward her, occasionally bumping shoulders or arms with strangers, murmuring a polite apology under my breath. The closer I get the faster the butterflies beat their wings in my stomach.

"Excuse me miss, gentlemen. So sorry to interrupt but I noticed that you are without drink," I smile brilliantly at her, holding out the glass to her.

She raises her dark brows slightly as she stares at the glass skeptically.

"And how I am to know if you've put something in it?" she asks, pursing her lips and tilting her head slightly, her liquid eyes looking into my own.

I laugh, trying to ignore to the chill that that sweeps down my spine at her low but not quite husky voice.

"Why, miss. I am a newly crowned victor. There is no reason for me to put something in a young woman's drink. I didn't see a drink in your hand and wanted to remedy that. I did it out of common courtesy," I shrug easily, attractive smile still in place.

Her eyes inspect me suspiciously for another second before she slowly reaches out to take the glass from me. I then see that she's wearing black elbow length gloves, which give her an even more refined air. I hadn't noticed what she was wearing before, but now that I'm so close it's quite impossible to ignore. She's wearing a dress that has a black leather corset for a top while the bottom portion of the dress hugs her body tightly until it hits her knees; the black material then cascades down from there to her feet and I can barely make out the pointy toes of her shoes. Draped loosely around her arms is a handsome black fur, glossy and thick and I know that couldn't have come cheap.

Despite her black attire, she's easily the most elegant woman in the room.

"Or maybe the reason was for you to gawk at me," she smiles haughtily, causing her companions to snicker.

I feel my cheeks redden but continue to simply smile at her.

"It would be impossible to overlook you, miss. You definitely stand out," I tell her truthfully, feeling a strange knot in my throat.

She's about to take a sip of champagne but stops at the last moment and stares at me. I feel my heart beat faster and swallow nervously. She finally breaks eye contact between us and turns to look at her companions.

_Why does she look __**so**__ familiar? Where have I see her before?_

"Gentlemen… do be darlings and give me a few moments with our dearest victor here, would you?" she asks, smiling sweetly at them.

They nod and kiss her hand goodbye, turning to look at me with both jealousy and awe.

"Close friends?" I question.

She smirks and takes a sip of her drink.

"You could say that," she speaks huskily, her eyes dancing mysteriously.

I watch her, feeling both curious and enthralled.

"So… Peeta Mellark. 'The Accidental Victor' as some call you. How is it that you didn't kill anybody, yet managed to win?" she asks, tilting her head slightly.

"People call me that? I thought everybody loved me," I laugh, half joking.

The corner of the woman's lips twitches and immediately raises the glass to her lips to hide her smile.

"I don't doubt that. I can see many of your adoring fans glaring at me for keeping you from them. Even if it was you who approached me," she says as she returns the icy looks at the horde of women who're openly glaring at her.

"They don't love me. They love the _idea_ of me. Truthfully, they don't know who I am. I'm not even sure who I am at this point," I whisper, a crease forming between my brows.

"It would be all the better for you to keep it that way. Because once they've sunken their claws into you..." she trails off, looking away from me.

"Ah, there you are kid!" Haymitch speaks loudly, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't do that, Haymitch… you startled me," I mutter, embarrassed that I literally jumped.

"Glad to see you two have met already."

I look between Haymitch and the woman, who seem to be communicating silently with one another.

"Do… do you know her, Haymitch?" I ask, breaking them from their trance.

"Do I know her? 'Course I do! Haven't you introduced yourselves? Don't tell me…" he says, shaking his head with exasperation.

"Of course, we all know who Peeta Mellark is," she smiles, though it doesn't quite reach her sooty eyes. "Man. Tribute. Victor."

"I haven't asked for her name," I admit sheepishly, causing Haymitch to break out in snickers.

"Effie would be turning in her grave! If she were dead, that is."

The woman rolls her eyes, giving her a much younger appearance.

"Oh, Effie… I'm actually quite surprised she isn't with us, right now. Must be off shoving manners down someone's throat," she grumbles behind her champagne glass.

"How do you know Effie?" I ask curiously.

"Why, I'm the other District 12 mentor," she smiles widely.

All I can do is stare at her.

"Katniss Everdeen, a pleasure," she purrs as she extends a gloved hand out to me.

_It's Katniss… why didn't occur to me that it was her? I watched her every single time she was on screen in her Games. Didn't I practically bite my nails down to nubs at that time? I felt like my heart was going to flop out of my chest every time she was near other tributes or when she got hurt? No wonder she looked familiar. She sure has changed, though… why didn't it occur to me that it could be her? I mean, I knew she was a past victor and I knew she would be here. I guess my mind didn't associate this exotic creature with the Katniss I knew._

I swallow thickly and take her gloved hand in mine, surprised to feel that it's cold. I grip her hand gently and brush my lips against her knuckles, never once looking away from her eyes; they shimmer and dance, something hidden in their depths.

"Pleasure is all mine," I reply, letting go of her hand regretfully.

"Oh, it will be," she grins salaciously.

Haymitch just rolls his eyes.

"So… looks like we're all going to be mentoring soon. Yay," he mutters sarcastically.

"You should take a break, Haymitch. It can be up to him and me… especially since I wasn't, ahem, able to mentor him this past time," Katniss suggests, looking at Haymitch concernedly.

"Be my guest," he hiccups, taking another glass full of clear liquor.

"Haymitch…" she warns, her lovely face set in a frown.

"It's my life, I do what I want!" he snaps at her.

"Wish we could all afford that luxury," she replies coldly before walking away, her skirt shimmering in her trail.

Haymitch stares after her, regret and guilt evident on his face.

"What was that all about?" I ask, puzzled.

"This isn't the place to talk about it," he answers brusquely, looking around wildly before slouching off.

I stare after him in bewilderment. Soon enough, my eyes find her again. She's in deep conversation with District 4 victor Finnick Odair, who looks devastatingly handsome in a crisp white tuxedo and sea foam green bowtie that compliments his eyes. I watch as Finnick lifts his hand to very gently caress her cheek, eyes sorrowful and caring as he murmurs soothing words to her. I feel like I'm intruding on a private moment between the two of them and look away, feeling fire burn in my veins all the same.

_Maybe they are together… they do make a striking couple. So why was she with those two men earlier instead of making rounds on his arm?_

Before I can help myself, my eyes seek her out again. This time, she's dancing with Head Gamemaker Seneca Crane. In my opinion, he's holding her a little _too_ closely for comfort yet she still smiles and laughs with him. After the song ends, he gives her a deep bow, winking at her as he kisses her hand while she giggles. Soon, a towering man with silver hair approaches her. He whispers something in her ear and she smiles mischievously at him, taking his arm. She catches my stare and looks blankly back at me for the briefest of seconds before turning away, smiling charmingly at her newest suitor.

I see how Haymitch looks after her sadly, chugging the remnants of his drink. I frown, feeling all the more curious and makes my way to my mentor once more.

"Haymitch, I know you saw her leave with that stranger. Is that really safe?" I demand.

"I'm sure she'll be fine, kid. She knows how to take care of herself," he mumbles, avoiding eye contact.

"But Haymitch…"

A waiter passes by and Haymitch is quick to snatch up a glass full of amber liquid.

"Look, boy. What she does is her business and if she chooses to tell you, that's on her. I… I'm going to get drunk," he sighs deeply, downing half of his drink.

_What does he mean by that? I suppose it couldn't hurt to follow her… right? I'm just going for an innocent walk and it would be nothing but a simple coincidence if I happen to bump into her._

So I slowly make my way toward the exit where I saw Katniss go through and find myself in the President's garden.

_A garden full of white rose bushes… hmm. I guess this must be the place where he takes every single one to pin to his jacket._

I begin to meander when suddenly I hear a woman's throaty giggle. A few minutes later I hear leaves rustling and more giggling along with deep voice that murmurs unintelligibly.

_No, it has to be somebody else… why would Katniss be sneaking around rose bushes with a stranger? _

I crane my neck to see who it is and I'm about to give up when something shiny catches my eye yet again. I feel myself become rooted to the floor, all thoughts and emotions gone.

Katniss and the man step out of the darkness and she finally sees me standing there, my expression vacant. She comes to an abrupt halt, her expression vulnerable as the man walks off without her. It seems like she was in the process of fixing her hair because her hand drops to her side as we continue to stare silently at each other.

The man finally comes close enough to me and winks at me but continues to walk by without saying anything else.

I snap out of it and frown deeply at Katniss.

"What are you doing out here so late?"

Every previous emotion is wiped from Katniss' face as she starts to walk toward me.

"I was simply taking an evening stroll," she answers, readjusting the fur in her arms.

"With a stranger in the President's rose bushes?" I ask with disbelief.

She scowls at me, clearly not amused.

"What's it to you what I do or don't do?" she demands, stalking closer to me in agitation.

"I would hate for people to think ill of you," I answer honestly.

She rolls her eyes as she comes to a stop before me.

"I don't care, let them think what they want to," she says, shrugging a slim shoulder.

"Katniss, this isn't like you," I tell her after a moment's silence.

"You don't know me. You don't know anything about me. The only thing we have in common is that we're both from District 12," she hisses, narrowing her eyes at me coldly.

I take a step back, surprised at her tone.

"We were in kindergarten together and had you in at least one class until we were sixteen," I whisper, feeling hurt at her callousness.

"That doesn't mean anything. You were simply just another classmate," she tells me nonchalantly, crossing her arms across her chest.

_Maybe she's right. I never had the courage to talk to her so how would I know what she's like? Or how she was. Perhaps I just built up the idea of a perfect Katniss in my head…_

"But now we're going to be mentoring partners," I point out, trying to ignore how my heart flutters at the word 'partners.'

"The only thing we'll have then is the blood of innocent children on our hands," she whispers, looking distraught for a second.

"Why are you being like this, Katniss? Is it because of what happened when we were eleven?" I whisper back, trying desperately to understand her.

_Maybe she's just ashamed of receiving help. Not even in school did she allow the teachers to help her. Perhaps she didn't take it too kindly that a near stranger threw two burned loaves of bread into the mud for her to grab._

Her expression softens almost at once and a corner of her lips quivers.

"I never did thank you for that," she acknowledges quietly, breaking eye contact for a moment.

"I didn't do it so you could thank me, Katniss," I scoff, feeling mildly insulted.

Her eyes snap back to my face and a tiny wrinkle appears between her brows.

"Why then?"

"If only you could have seen yourself… it was heartbreaking. The answer was quite literally in my hands and… I did what I could," I sigh. "I didn't care what the consequences would be. You were disappearing before my very own eyes. I just knew that I had to help you because if I didn't, it would be the last time I'd see you."

She swallows thickly as her eyes become glassy in the moonlight.

"The next day at school, I had wanted to ask if it was enough. But I couldn't bring myself to do it, to speak to you," I recall ashamedly. "In the following weeks, it was as if you were filled with renewed hope and I saw you grow stronger just as I had seen you grow frail. I knew then that you would be okay. No, more than okay. You would survive."

She turns her head and discreetly dabs at the corner of her eye before turning to look at me again. I feel my heart twist with longing and I want nothing more than to sweep her into my arms. Of course, I know better because I'm absolutely certain that she would not take my advances lightly. She clears her throat and licks her lips, lost for words.

"Thank you, Peeta Mellark. I never forgot that gesture and it's highly likely that I never will. It's because of you that I'm still alive. I, too, distinctly remember thinking that if I didn't find anything, I would probably die under your apple tree. Because of that bread you gave me, you were able to give me life and more importantly, you gave the people I love life as well," she whispers at last, her voice sounding raspy. "But… that doesn't mean I'm still that person. Just because we have that… connection between us doesn't mean anything. I'm sorry if it disappoints you but it's just the cold, hard truth and it's better that you accept it now."

I frown at her, watching how she went from misty eyed to emotionless within seconds.

"But… Katniss. We've been through the same ordeal!" I snap, suddenly losing my temper.

"The same ordeal? The same ordeal!" she lets out a soft and scathing laugh.

"Yes. We've survived the Games, haven't we? Isn't that supposed to bring us together? Give us lost souls some sense of unity and a feeling of belonging?"

"We may have survived the Games… but that doesn't mean the game is over," she answers exhaustively, turning to look at the people in the ballroom.

I feel my anger wane and observe just how _tired_ she looks. My heart aches and feel like I have to do something about it, but knowing her, she would just tell me to get lost.

"You better go back in there. I expect that they'll notice your absence. You _are_ the guest of honor, after all," she tells me suddenly.

"Are you coming?"

"In a little bit. Go on, they're waiting for their golden boy," she answers with a tiny smile.

"Don't be too long either. I expect they'll notice your absence too. After all, you _are_ kind of hard to miss."

She glares at me, her wistful expression gone.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" she commands, straightening to her full height.

"It means that you're the most beautiful woman in there," I reply, giving her a lopsided smile.

Her dark eyes widen significantly, her ruby lips parting in a small o.

"See you," I chuckle, stepping away and walking back into the party.

To my dismay, I see that the it's still in full swing.

_Well, at least that's over and done with. As to whatever happens next… who knows? S__he__ obviously seems to dislike me. Maybe I should stay away from her to avoid any further awkward moments between us. Speak when spoke to… like a dog. Christ, Mellark… is this what's going to become of your life? Leading children to their death and avoiding your childhood love? All thanks to the Hunger Games and President Snow. To think that I'll never pass hunger again or that my wallet will never be empty… but at what cost? No use whining about it. It is what it is and I'm going to let it be._

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Thoughts? Concerns? Comments? I'd love to know what you're thinking! Thanks for taking the time out of your day to read this, I truly appreciate it.

See you on Friday. :)


	2. Chapter 2

Hello everybody! Thanks for the reviews. There weren't many but the general consensus seems to be that people have liked this story so far. Not that there's much to go on since I've only posted one chapter. :P But it's reassuring nevertheless.

As usual, I don't own anything. Except for the plot and even then it's iffy.

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We finally arrive at Victor's Village.

It isn't until we reach District 12 that I realize I'm going to be living near Katniss. It manages to excite and make me dread it simultaneously.

I don't find out just how close I'd be until Haymitch stomps over to his house, dragging his suitcase behind him. He lives at the very edge of the Village and Katniss in the house next to him. That can only mean that she'll my next door neighbor.

_Great, as if we need any more tense interaction between us. Knock knock. "Hey there, Peeta. Is there anything I can help you with?" "Hey there neighbor, I was just wondering if I could borrow a cup of sugar. I promise that I'll pay it back somehow." "Oh, sure! Here you go!" "Thank you, Katniss!" "You're very welcome, neighbor! I look forward to tasting whatever it is you're baking!"_

I can't help but roll my eyes at the lame conversation in my head. I stop short, however, when I stand just outside my new house. It really is quite beautiful. Two stories tall, the exterior built with handsome red and brown bricks that make the house look incredibly cozy.

I slip my hand into the inside of my jacket and grab the key from a pocket. I hold it tightly in my hand as I slowly climb the steps of my new house. I place the golden key into the keyhole and turn it slowly, listening to the clicking sound it makes. I swallow nervously and twist the doorknob, opening the door slowly. I stand on the doorway, marveling at how everything looks and smells _so_ brand new.

_Just for me. Sure, I had my room back at my parents' house and even if it was a small space, it was still mine. But this… a whole house to myself! Maybe I should ask them if they'd like to move in with me. Or would they be expecting to move in without my asking? No, Dad wouldn't allow that. But I'm sure Ryan would be more than happy to stay here. I know I __**just**__ saw them at the station but… it was rather impersonal. Mother even worked herself up to squeeze out a few tears. I'm sure they would have liked to have accompanied me, but Effie was usually stern when she said we all needed our rest. Another day, then. For now, I need to familiarize myself with this place that I'll call home._

Effie had informed me back at the Capitol that all my belongings had been moved to this house as soon as I'd been proclaimed victor. I just need to look for my bedroom, because truth be told, I'm actually really tired. Traveling just sucks the energy out of me, especially when having Katniss as a traveling partner.

I recall our encounter after the party in President Snow's mansion and cringe. She behaved as though she was the only one seated at the table; she even ignored Cinna, her stylist/confidante/best friend. That's when I mostly got to see her, though, during meal times.

In all honesty, I was downright disappointed with how Katniss turned her out to be compared with how I'd _thought _she'd be. Then again, I'd put her in a pedestal and when it came to the real thing, she just couldn't compare to my dream girl. The real Katniss is rude, selfish and demanding while the Katniss in my mind wasn't.

I'm about to climb up the sweeping staircase when a loud rapping noise on the door frame startles me. I scold myself mentally and turn to see Haymitch grinning smugly at me.

"What are you so happy about?" I grumble, gripping the rail tightly as I sit on the bottom step.

"You, boy. You're so jumpy. Who would have thought?" he cackles, shaking his head.

"You'd be too if you won the Hunger Games. Oh, wait…"

But Haymitch just rolls his eyes.

"Just wanted to make sure you're settled in. Looks like you are. I feel like I've gotta warn you, though… Katniss is quite the... hostess."

I can barely muster up to look at him with confusion.

"What are you talking about, Haymitch? I'm exhausted and I want to nap. If you have a point, make it because I'm not up to playing games," I say tiredly, sitting down on the bottom step.

"Mmm… you _do_ look like you're about to pass out. Fine, I'll make it quick. Katniss has parties at her house. Not every day, thank Daniels, but enough to make a neighbor wish they had soundproofed the houses."

I stare blankly at Haymitch.

"It's loud. Until the crack of dawn," he clarifies.

"Oh… why should that bother me, Haymitch? It's not like I'll be able to sleep anyway."

"I guess you'll just see with your own eyes, kid. And ears," he mumbles before exiting, not bothering to bid me goodbye.

I brace myself to stand up when Haymitch pops up on the doorway again.

"By the way… heh, it really _is_ funny, you should see yourself," he snickers before sobering up. "Your Victory Tour will take place in two weeks. Be ready. That is all."

He slouches away, closing the door behind him and I stare after him, feeling my weariness grow at the mention of the tour. Haymitch, Effie and I will be traveling to every district so I can give a speech about how thankful I am to have survived and how gracious the Capitol is and then the district will host a party of sorts in my honor with only the most elite of that district in attendance.

_Not looking forward to it at all. On the bright side, Portia's going to be there. Her, I like. I suppose Effie and Haymitch aren't bad company either. It's __**her**__ presence that makes me feel like there's a dark cloud looming over us._

I finally find my bedroom and collapse into the bed face first, feeling mildly surprised and pleased at how firm yet pliant the mattress feels. I close my eyes, taking in a deep breath and before I know it, I'm whisked off into slumber.

I flop onto my back, listening to a faint sound in the distance that slowly becomes louder. Soon enough, the beat of the music pounds in my ears and I bolt up in bed, dazed.

_What? Where am I?_

I stare around the vast room with my belongings and when my eyes lock on the window, I see that it's nighttime already.

_I'm in my new house. I must have slept for hours. I guess I really __**was**__ tired._

The pounding music starts again and I frown at the sheer loudness of it.

_Looks like Haymitch wasn't joking when he warned me about her parties. Has she no consideration for us? If it's this loud from here, I can imagine just how much of an assault it is on the ears at her house._

I stomp across my front yard to hers, wincing at the volume of the music when I arrive at her porch. I raise my hand to knock but chide myself, realizing that nobody would be able to hear it. So instead I grab the doorknob, take a deep breath and turn it carefully.

I blink at the sight before me. If I didn't know any better, I'd think that I've walked into a room full of brightly colored birds.

_They must be from the Capitol. What are they doing here? I thought it wasn't allowed to travel between districts?_

Glad that nobody has noticed me, I walk slowly, observing the people around me. Most are dancing to the thumping beat, so dangerously close that under normal circumstances it would make me blush, but I'm on a mission to find her. Other people are chatting in corners and I feel bewildered at how they can possibly understand to each other.

_Perhaps they can they read lips? Or maybe a special method of communication between Capitol people?_

I see that some are engaged in drinking games while a few are already passed out on the floor.

I walk carefully through the mass, taking care not to jostle anybody too much. I search in the kitchen to no avail and quickly climb the steps to search the top floor. After walking in on several couples in rather intimate moments and issuing hasty apologies, I start to feel resignation sink in.

"So damn loud!" I hiss through gritted teeth.

Looking at the last door to the right, I figure that it must be the bathroom so I walk toward it; I can definitely use a moment of solitude and less noise. I wrench the door open and lo and behold, there stands the woman of the hour.

She turns to me, gray eyes so wide that I'd find it comical if I wasn't in such a bad mood. She closes her mouth when she realizes that it's me and narrows her eyes with obvious dislike. I, in turn, smile pleasantly at her and lean my body against the doorframe.

"Good evening. Just the person I was looking for," I greet her loudly.

"What could _you_ want with _me_?" she asks snootily, raising a well-groomed eyebrow.

_To think that once I wanted everything to do with you, Katniss._

"I just wanted to ask whether you could turn the volume down," I tell her, ignoring the stab of dread in my stomach at the haughty expression that takes over her face.

"Relax, _grandpa_. Haven't you looked around? Everybody's having a blast," she grins, crossing her arms across her chest.

I look down at her wardrobe and notice her outfit for the first time. She's wearing a black velvet dress with a sort of antique gold print on it. It's tight but it flares out at her waist, reaching a few inches below her knees; the scalloped beaded lace trim is what actually adds those extra inches. It has a high neckline, so much that it covers her throat and the sleeves cup the curves her shoulders and have the same scallop beaded lace trim detail on the cap sleeves. Belatedly I realize that there's the same lace beading around her waist, accentuating the slimness of it.

_This isn't what she wore on the trip back here. She changed and dolled herself up. I must say, the look fits her completely. Though, I never pegged Katniss to be particularly girly or feminine. She always wore pants and loose shirts in school, her hair in its usual braid down her back._

I look down at her feet in curiosity and see that her feet are tucked into a pair of pointy-heeled boots, the stiletto looking incredibly lethal and skinny.

_How does she balance herself? They look great, though, not going to lie. Never thought I'd see Katniss in high heels. She used to wear a different kind of boot back in the day. More durable, less... aesthetically pleasing to the eye._

I finally look up at her face and I'm glad to see she's not wearing any more makeup than she was earlier. If I get close enough, I'm sure I'd be able to see the light dusting of freckles on her nose but I'm not about to take that risk.

I glance up at her hair and see that her hairstyle was tweaked a bit. When we arrived hours earlier, her shining curls were drooping down her back but now they are simply pinned up on her head. Her eggplant-hued lips are pursed, which brings me back into consciousness.

"Yeah, everybody but your neighbors," I frown at her.

She merely rolls her eyes and sighs exasperatedly.

"Haymitch, for one, doesn't mind. I'm sure that as time passes by, neither will you," she answers brightly.

"I wouldn't be so sure if I was you," I grumble under my breath.

"It's not like you'll be able to sleep at night anyway, so what's the big deal?" she asks, throwing her arms in the air and causing the bracelets resting on her wrists to shimmer when they catch the light.

"I like having peace and tranquility, thank you very much."

"Give me a break," she scoffs. "If I did this every day, _then_ you'd be free to admonish me. But I don't, so I won't stand to hear any more of your boring spiel. Excuse me."

_Oh, no… I don't think so. If she thinks I'm going to stand by meekly, she is so wrong._

The moment Katniss tries to squeeze by my side, I grab her upper arm and pull her back. Apparently I put a little too much force into it because she stumbles back, accidentally closing the bathroom door before slamming into my chest.

"What's your problem?" she hisses, snatching her arm from me.

"What's _yours_, Katniss? Don't you realize the debauchery that you partake in? There are people having intercourse in all of the bedrooms, for crying out loud!" I explode. "Don't you care? Doesn't it bother you?"

She stares at me, her bottom lip quivering ever so slightly. But soon, she steels herself and sets her jaw, holding her chin high.

"If you're _so_ good and pure, what are you doing here, in the midst of all this so-called 'debauchery'? You tell me you came to ask me to lower the volume, but come _on_. Do you really think I would have complied? You claim to have known me, don't you? Tell me, would I have lowered the volume?" she asks mockingly. "I think that innocent little Peeta just felt lonely and curious. But I bet that as soon as I get some alcohol into you, you'd be the worst of them all."

I feel my insides turn to stone as I stare into the angry sparkling eyes of the woman before me.

_There's no way this is Katniss. What have they done to her? Who is this person?_

"You're absolutely right. I _thought _I knew Katniss but this… this person who stands before me? I know nothing about her. By the looks of it, I don't want to either. I should have known better than to ask but then again, I mistook you for a reasonable person. I was wrong, _very_ wrong. Enjoy your party," I tell her flatly.

Her expression drops and she stares at me in complete surprise, watching as I inch past her, making sure not to brush against her and walk out.

I'm a few feet away from the door, unnoticed once more when someone suddenly grabs my arm.

"Hey! It's Peeta the victor!" the man slurs.

I cringe away from him and tug my arm out of the drunk's grasp, exiting before more people realize I'm there.

_How does Haymitch put up with this? I'm sure he's used to it by now. But me? How will I cope? What has led her so astray? What if… what if that happens to me someday? No, no… I'll make sure my brothers kick my ass at the very thought of having an alcohol and sex fueled party. But hmm… for sure I thought Prim and Mrs. Everdeen would be living there with her but I saw no sight of them. Where could they possibly be? I remember that they moved into the house before even Katniss herself arrived back home. So where are they? Surely they don't approve of her behavior. I need to find them to get answers. This isn't the Katniss I knew… or thought I knew, as she tauntingly pointed out. With answers, I can get to the root of her problem and maybe even help turn her back into who she really is._

I head back to my house and lock the front door for good measure. I stomp up the stairs then and walk into the room across my bedroom, staring out the grand double window.

"Yes, Dad made an excellent choice. He must have known that this is where I'll get the best view of the sunset," I muse out loud, a smile gracing my lips.

I look at the stool and easel in the otherwise empty room and take a step closer to them.

_Yes, this will be a fine room for my studio. Hmm… that sounds rather pretentious, doesn't it? But what else can I call it? I'll finally be able to have a space dedicated to painting. I won't have to do it in secret anymore nor will I get shouted at for "partaking in such frivolous activities." Mother never understood and she never tried to, either. But I didn't need her to understand it, I just wanted her to love me. But that was a bust..._

The closed window starts to make me feel uncomfortable so I start to step toward it to open it but remember the party going on in _her_ house.

_No, I don't want to hear any more of that music than I have to. It shall remain closed, then. I could use the fresh air but… all in the name of sacrifice. It would have been nice to draw the night sky but I guess that'll have to wait. Besides, I don't have any supplies. I'm willing to bet, however, that Dad stocked plenty of baking ingredients. Looks like I'm baking tonight._

I head back down and enter the kitchen, finding the cavernous room somehow comforting. I rummage through the shelves and pantries, acquainting myself with where everything is located.

I finally set the ingredients for simple bread on the marble counter, measuring everything precisely despite the fact that I probably know the measurements by memory. I knead the dough gently with my fingertips, often using the heel of my palm to smooth it out. Before long, I find myself getting lost in the process, my bad mood and terrible experience out of mind. Before I know it, I see that I've made several loaves too many but I just shrug and set the trays into the oven. I turn around and survey the ingredients strewn about on the counter.

_Well, I could always bake more. It's not like I'm tired. Besides, I'll be going to town tomorrow to buy painting supplies; I could drop bread off in people's doorsteps. I'd even venture into the Seam, but I have a feeling they wouldn't take an ex-merchant, let alone a Hunger Games Victor too kindly. They're very proud people._

So I gather more ingredients for a hearty raisin nut bread; the very same I threw at Katniss many years ago. When that, too, is in the oven, I lean against the counter and sigh.

_Maybe I should slow down. I know Dad stocked my kitchen well but I'd hate to run out of stuff so soon, especially since this is my first night here. But perhaps it would be wise to buy more tomorrow as well. It certainly wouldn't hurt to have extra. Besides, I can afford it now._

By the time the loaves of bread have finally finished baking, a delicious and warm aroma fills the air. I breathe in deeply, feeling a slight twinge of homesickness in my chest.

_No, this is my home now. I suppose what I miss is having company. Not that Mother was very pleasant... but still, another warm body._

I set the loaves on a cooling rack and notice the pinkish glow on the horizon.

_Here comes the sun, purifying us with its light and casting our demons away... for the time being._

I go back upstairs to take a quick shower, dressing in a comfortable plaid shirt and trousers. I roll up the sleeves of my shirt and put some socks on before slipping my feet into a brand new pair of boots, whose laces I double knot. I run my fingers through my hair, trying not to notice the dark patches under my eyes.

_To think it's only going to get worse._

I go back to the kitchen once more, placing the loaves of bread in a sturdy bag and exiting the house, not bothering to lock it.

_If stealing is a crime for the citizens of District 12, I'd hate to think of the punishment for someone who breaks into a house in Victor's Village._

I step down from the porch, glancing over at my neighbor's houses. I sigh deeply and shake my head, knowing I wouldn't feel comfortable not giving them some bread.

First I approach Katniss' house, observing how peaceful and quiet it is.

_Of course, they must all be asleep!_

I raise my hand to knock but freeze it in midair.

_No, I wouldn't want to wake anybody up. I'll just slip quietly inside and leave a loaf on her table._

I open the door slowly, listening to the way my pulse pounds loudly in my ears. To my surprise, everybody is gone. There's cups and several discarded clothing items strewn about, but other than that, her house seems to be rather empty. I quickly deposit a loaf and exit her kitchen. But just as I'm about to open the door, I turn swiftly and glance up the stairs.

_She must be asleep somewhere up there. Is she alone? Wait, why did I think that? It really is none of my business who she cohorts with._

I finally reach Haymitch's house and grimace at the terrible smell. I feel like my eyes are about to bulge out of their sockets as I see clothes, empty bottles and trash littering the floor, making it almost impossible for me to make my way to the kitchen. I see the day's old dirty dishes stacked and shake my head, carefully setting a loaf of bread on his equally messy table.

_Christ, Haymitch. This is a pigsty. Why won't you hire somebody to clean it up for you?_

I finally exit his house, letting out a sigh of relief before breathing in a lungful of clean, morning air. Done with my first two good deeds of the morning, I set out toward the shops in town.

Once I reach the art and supply store, I'm delighted to see the spectrum of paints they sell. Not wanting to miss out on any single one, I buy them in every single color along with the very best paintbrushes. I also add 20 canvases to my shopping cart and finally treat myself to some fine sketching pencils. I eventually pay, giving the owner a little extra and enjoy the look of astonishment on the older gentleman's face as we carefully load my loot into a cart for me to take home. I thank the owner and tell him that he'll see me soon. The man gives me a little smile and a wave as I wheel my stuff away.

I get as close to the Seam as I possibly can, leaving loaves of bread on the doorsteps of shacks I know house huge families. I feel a little better as I sneak away, pushing the cart as fast as I can do avoid being seen.

Just as soon as I arrive back home, a phone starts to ring.

_Phone? I didn't know I had a phone. Just another way for them to keep tabs on me._

I finally find it in what seems to be an office on the bottom floor. I stare around in wonder but finally pick up the phone; whoever's calling must have something important to say to me because they probably would have already hung up by now.

"Hello?"

"Good morning, Peeta! It's Effie," she tells me brightly.

"Ah, Effie! Good morning. I'm sorry it took me so long to answer, I just arrived home," I explain, knowing that manners are integral to her.

"Don't worry, Peeta, I understand."

"Thanks, Effie. So, what's up?"

"I just wanted to inform you while Katniss wasn't initially coming with us on your Victory Tour, President Snow was gracious enough to issue her an invitation to come along!" she chirps.

I close my eyes and will myself not to say anything rude. After all, it's not Effie's fault that I'm going to have to put up with _her_.

"Isn't she lucky?"

"Oh, yes! Very! It's rather unusual for the President to do this. Though I suppose it's not too much of a surprise, everybody loves her here."

"Of course," I tell her dryly.

"Well, that is all. I'll make sure to give her and Haymitch a call as well. Have a good day, Peeta! See you in two weeks," she says before hanging up.

I hang up the phone slowly and let out a deep breath.

_Of all the things Effie could have called to tell me about, it's just my awful luck that it's about Katniss. But is that what you **really **feel, Mellark? Or are you secretly thrilled to be able to spend more time in her presence, despite her obvious contempt towards you? As if you couldn't get any more pathetic, yet you keep outdoing yourself. I can only hope that those 12 days pass just as quickly as they've arrived._

* * *

I know there's usually a good half a year between winning the Games and Victory Tour, but I sped it up a bit. I hope nobody minds.

Also, has anybody watched Catching Fire yet? I'm still speechless. A part of me wants to curl up and weep while the rest tells me to knock it the hell off. But really, I can't wait to watch it again.

Anyway, thanks for reading! See you all on Monday. :)


	3. Chapter 3

Hello everybody! I hope ya'll have a great Monday.

Just wanted to thank everybody for following, reviewing and for adding the story to favorites. :)

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

* * *

We're on the train once more and I still can't help but complain to Haymitch about Katniss accompanying us.

"I don't understand why she needs to be here," I grumble. "It's not like she mentored me."

"She may have not, but she's still one of us, kid. I know you don't get along with her, but she's not so bad when you get to know her," he shrugs, sitting down in one of the train's many comfortable couches.

"I _seriously_ doubt that," I mutter, watching the green from District 12 flash before my eyes.

"Look, I'll talk to her. I can't promise much but at least she'll be more... civilized."

"Be my guest," I snort, sitting across from him.

"It's not like she's gracing us with her bubbly personality," he snickers, tapping his fingers restlessly against his knee. "She'll probably hole herself up in her room until she absolutely has to come out."

"All the better for us."

He stops and gives me a long look, tilting his head slightly.

"What?" I ask uneasily, shifting in my seat.

"Nothing," he shakes his head, looking away quickly.

I open my mouth to press further but he stands up in one fluid motion and claps his hands together.

"Well, there's much to do before dinner. I'll see you later, kid. Enjoy the free booze. Oh, and there's food too," he adds as an afterthought and smirks.

"Thanks," I mutter, watching him make his way through the door to goodness knows where.

I let out a long breath and notice how the light filters through one of the crystals in the chandeliers gracing the ceiling. Rainbows reflect against the floor and I stare at them, transfixed. It reminds me of the many rainbows I've tried to capture in painting. Those, however, are far more elusive because I can barely get blue and purple on canvas before it vanishes, leaving behind an air of melancholy in me.

But these shimmer and dance before my very eyes. I lean forward and instinctively reach toward my back pocket, which is where I usually place my brush for safekeeping while painting and grasp air; I look around and realize that I'm not home. I'm on a train, headed to deliver speeches to desolate family members about how _thankful_ I am that their child died so I could live. Well, not exactly in those words, but that's the basic gist.

I close my eyes and lean back, still picturing the rainbows behind my closed lids. Still, I smile a little at their beauty because it seems that there isn't much to be happy about nowadays.

That night at dinner Haymitch and Katniss appear together, her with a mildly annoyed expression on her face and a very similar one on his. They sit down at the table stiffly, Katniss across from me and Haymitch at the head of the table. Effie soon appears and sits across from Haymitch with Portia and Cinna sitting next to me and Katniss respectively.

"Peeta, are you excited to start the tour?" Katniss asks just as soup is being served.

I look up to see her smiling at me. I initially find it disarming, but soon realize that she's not _truly _interested or happy. I glance over at Haymitch, who seems to be shaking his head subtly. I figure this must be his doing so I turn back to her, plastering what could pass as an amicable smile on my face.

"I am, Katniss, thank you for asking," I answer in the same friendly tone.

"Oh, don't thank me. I remember when it was _my_ Victory Tour. I was so nervous to be facing other districts. Then again, I _did_ kill off quite a few of their tributes after all," she says, injecting an overly saccharine tone into her last words.

"I'm curious to see what the other districts look like, mainly. I've never been anywhere but home and what little I've seen of the Capitol so I'd like to see what it's like in between," I tell her, choosing to ignore her obvious barb at me.

I can almost hear Haymitch's sigh of relief for not stooping to her level.

"Some are nice," she shrugs. "The best is District 1. I had never seen so many jewels or fine dresses in my life! But District 8 is great too because it's where Cinna buys most of the material for my clothes. I'm sure that's where Portia also buys hers for you."

"That's nice," I tell her vaguely, buttering a roll.

"I think you'll like District 4 the best," she tells me abruptly.

I look up at her and see that the fake smile she wore before is gone. Instead, she's looking at me intently with a sort of vulnerability that confuses me.

"I guess I'll find out soon," I mumble, staring on my soup.

The rest of the meal goes without a hitch.

When it's finally time to go to bed, I just can't force myself go to sleep. I shower, hoping that it calms me down but it's futile. I can't stop thinking of Katniss and the strange change in her. I know that Haymitch talked to her as he promised, possibly threatening her into being friendlier. While I didn't appreciate her tone when she first spoke to me, I can't help but feel puzzled at the change.

_What's going on with her? She's hot and cold. I'm not sure what to expect of her anymore. Of course, this isn't the first time I've seen her like that. Easily every time I talk to her, there's a crack in her composure. Wait a minute… what if Katniss is simply putting up an act? I must admit, she's a far better actress than I thought she would be. I must find out. I need to befriend her somehow. But how do I manage that? Even now I can't help but be intimated by her…_

Finding the sizable room suddenly too small, I escape and find myself in the very last compartment in the train. It has comfortable-looking couches with a wide window that retracts into the ceiling during the day, as to enjoy the weather. But it's closed now and I settle for looking up at the sky.

I sit down in the loveseat, wearing my fancy pajamas and stare up at the night sky. Despite the speed of the train, I'm enthralled in the varying colors of the velvet sky. There are patches of midnight blue swirled with black with a sprinkling of bright stars. At this point I'd settle for simple paper and pencil but there's nobody around and I don't want help from any of the Capitol attendants.

So instead I lose myself in the night sky, feeling mesmerized as I lean my head back on the headrest.

"Peeta?"

I can't see her, but I can recognize her voice anywhere.

"Hey Katniss," I greet her, not bothering to sit up.

Soon she's standing close, looking down at me. I put off looking at her for as long as I can, but find it near impossible after she takes a seat next to me. I sit up and feel my breath still in my throat when I set eyes on her. She's in a long white silk gown that's knotted at her waist; it has black floral lace embellishments a few inches from the hem and sleeves. Her curls are swept back from her face and there's a tiny comb stuck in her hair that tinkles every time she moves.

"Can't sleep?" she asks me softly.

"Obviously not," I frown, looking away from her.

I see her exhale deeply from the corner of my eye but she doesn't say anything. She finally leans back like me and stares up at the sky.

"Beautiful, isn't it? I don't think I look at the night sky frequently enough," she murmurs.

I make a vague noise at the back of my throat and look up as well.

"Of course, there were nights when I'd go into the woods... but I was focused on more important things than the sky."

_Were you alone then, Katniss? Or did you have company? More specifically, Gale Hawthorne's company? I heard what the girls at school thought of him... do you feel the same way as they do? Even now, when I'm being unpleasant I still can't help caring about her. But why? She's not who I thought she was. To make things worse, she doesn't like me. So why do I still care? I suppose it's become second nature to me by now. It's embedded in my very being... and she has no idea._

"Katniss, what are you doing?" I ask, turning to face her again.

She turns to face me and that's when I feel slightly unnerved at our closeness.

_We can't be any more than arm's length away…_

"I'm sorry, Peeta," she tells me simply, a corner of her lips twisting down.

"Why?" I demand, straightening my position.

"I just thought it would be best for us," she shrugs, sitting up at well.

"You thought that hating me is the best for us?"

A tiny frown appears between those eyes of hers that stare at me.

"I don't hate you," she tells me softly.

"You… don't?"

She merely shakes her head, causing the comb in her hair to chime softly.

"Could have fooled me," I mumble, looking away from her.

"Peeta, listen… like I said, I thought that it's for the best it's like that. I… I… I'm thankful for what you did for me when we were eleven and I will never forget it. But we're adults now, adults ravaged by the Games… we're not the same. I'm not saying that I don't trust or appreciate you, because I do, but…"

"It would be best if we aren't friends," I finish for her, narrowing my eyes.

She opens her mouth to speak but seems to find that there aren't any words to convey what she feels, so she snaps it shut.

"I'm sorry, Peeta," she eventually whispers. "My life… is too complicated for me to throw you into the mix."

"I get it, alright? There's no need to explain anything to me," I tell her stiffly, crossing my arms.

"It's not what you think," she insists stubbornly, reaching out to place her hand on my arm.

I try to ignore the warmth of her fingertips and how it seems to spread all the way down to my core. I suck in a quick breath through my mouth and all too soon her touch is gone.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs again, sitting up. "Goodnight, Peeta. Try to get some sleep."

She vanishes then, like a pleasant dream. Her scent, however, lingers behind, assuring me that this is no dream. It's floral with a hint of leather yet crisp mix; very intoxicating and very Katniss. I inhale deeply, wanting to engrave her scent in my memory.

_I suppose it would be for the best. As Effie would say, tomorrow's a big, big, big day._

I try my best to keep my eyes open as the prep team gets me ready for Portia, who ought to be arriving with my outfit soon. There's a light knock on the door and she steps in, clutching a garment bag in her arms. She smiles at me, placing the bag carefully on the bed and dismisses the prep team, who wish me good luck before scurrying from the room.

"I think you'll love this one, Peeta," Portia tells me knowingly.

I just watch her unzip the bag curiously and smile when she takes out the cream colored suit and the muted orange silk shirt.

"That's…"

"Your favorite color, I know," she grins, motioning for me to take the robe off so she can dress me. "I thought about doing the suit in the orange but figured that it might have been too much."

She dresses me quickly, her deft fingers smoothing down every little crease that threatens to make me look any less than perfect.

"You look so handsome," she beams, whirling me around so I can look at myself in the full length mirror.

Sure enough, I look great. My hair is swooped to the side and the suit fits me perfectly, accentuating my broad shoulders. Something sparkly near my neck catches my attention so I walk toward my reflection to get a closer look. Embroidered exquisitely on the shirt collar are leaves, ranging from yellow to amber, orange to scarlet and finally melding into a soft brown.

"They're on your shirt cuffs as well," Portia points out from behind, smiling at me.

I look at her through the mirror and smile tenderly at her.

"It's truly a work of art. Thank you, Portia. You're the best."

She blushes but waves her hand like it's nothing.

"Alright, time for shoes!" she says, clapping her hands.

I slide my feet into a pair of brand-new brown leather shoes, knotting the laces twice and come to realize that the shoes match the belt looped around my trousers.

"All ready. Knock them off their feet," she tells me affectionately, gently patting my cheek before exiting the room.

Not even a minute later Effie's knocking on the door.

"Peeta, are you ready? We've just arrived at District 11," she calls promptly.

"Going!" I call back, giving one last look at my reflection before heading for the door.

"Oh, goody, you look so handsome, Peeta!" Effie compliments me, nodding her head in approval at the sharp creases running down the front of my trousers.

"Thank you, Effie. Where's everybody else?"

"Cinna, Katniss and Portia have _just_ departed. It's just me and Haymitch waiting for you. Do you have everything ready? Do you know what you're going to say? Do you have the cards available just in case you forget?"

I nod nervously, licking my lips as we meet Haymitch outside the train. Just as I'm about to board the car, I notice the high fences with deadly-looking barbed wire at the top. I give Haymitch a puzzled look, who just shrugs before looking out the car window disinterestedly.

Effie warbles all the way to the Justice Building, only remaining silent for a few seconds to draw breath.

We finally arrive at our destination and Effie climbs out very lady-like despite the tall heels she wears. I follow after her, trying my best not to wrinkle the suit. Haymitch exits out the other door, straightening his back when Effie glares pointedly at him.

"Oh, look! There's Katniss chatting with Mayor Hortus. Come on, Peeta," Effie says, ushering me toward the entrance of the Justice Building.

My eyes seek her without my permission. Sure enough, she's deep in conversation with Mayor Hortus, nodding and smiling at the seemingly right times. It's when she touches her hand to the hat on her head that I observe her outfit; she seems to be matching with my muted orange shirt. A corner of my lips rises up as I observe her silk blouse, which seems to be made out of the same material as mine. Of course, with the exception of the collar that covers her throat doesn't seem to have the leaf embellishments that mine does but it does have ruffles down the front. She's wearing a fitted brown blazer, with a large bejeweled broach pinned to the lapel. Her legs are covered by a pair of brown plaid trousers, which are tucked into cognac knee-length boots. While the look would have looked matronly on somebody else, it made her look extremely sophisticated. Or on the verge of riding a horse.

"Mayor Hortus!" Effie calls out, placing a wide smile on her face.

"My dearest Ms. Trinket! I've just been conversing with Ms. Everdeen, she's a most amusing young woman," he laughs, giving her a look from the corner of his eyes that I don't appreciate.

"Our Katniss is a delight. But then again, so is Peeta, our newest victor," Effie smiles, practically shoving me to the front near the mayor.

"Mr. Mellark, what an absolute pleasure. Please come in, they're all waiting for you," he tells me warmly, shaking my hand.

I nod jerkily, feeling my body go cold despite the warm weather.

We're all escorted by Peacekeepers, which unnerves me further. I try to focus on breathing steadily, which soothes my nerves some but it still doesn't take away the clammy and shaky feeling in my hands.

Perhaps noticing, Katniss gently taps my shoulder to get my attention. I turn around, not expecting to have her standing so close to me. She leans closer and I freeze on the spot; for a wild moment I think she's going to kiss me. Instead, her lips accidentally brush lightly against my ear, which sends a spark all the way down to my toes.

"Don't worry, they're more scared of you than you are of them. Once they hear you, they'll warm up to you. You're just good that way," she whispers to me.

She pulls away quickly, the brim of her top hat rustling my hair slightly. Her eyes are earnest and warm, the corners of her lips pulled up in a small encouraging smile.

"Thank you, Katniss," I tell her, clearing my throat.

I settle my eyes on her brown top hat, noticing that the base of the hat has a strip of the same material as our shirts. To my surprise, it has the same sparkling leaf embellishments as my shirt.

"Nice hat," I murmur before being lead away by Effie.

"They're going to be waiting for you on the verandah," she explains. "We will be waiting here while you make your speech."

At the mention of having to deliver my speech, I find that I'm not so nervous anymore.

_Does Katniss have something to do with this? Don't kid yourself, Mellark, you know it does. It has nothing to do with the fact that you'd usually be perfectly comfortable talking to a group of people. How perfectly pathetic._

"Citizens of District 11, it is my honor to present you the winner of the 74th Hunger Games. From District 12, Victor Peeta Mellark!" Mayor Hortus speaks enthusiastically.

I walk out to the verandah and don't feel so terribly nervous knowing that Katniss, Haymitch, Effie and Portia are all so close.

"Esteemed citizens of District 11…" I start, gazing at their curious faces.

I feel guilt wrench in my stomach at seeing the rags they wear. Their faces are deeply lined, no doubt those being lines of worry and hunger. Their already dark skin is burned at spending so many hours in the sun, picking whatever's in season. The knot in my throat doesn't go away, no matter how many times I try to swallow it back.

_It's just as bad, if not worse than the Seam. Especially with that fence topped with barbed wire._

At first they look skeptical but now they almost smile at my carefully crafted words, sometimes even nodding in agreement. When I finally finish my speech, I make sure to thank them because I know they certainly aren't thanked enough on a day to day basis. They all clap and I give them a slight bow before being given a small plaque and soon lead away by Peacekeepers back into the building.

"That was so beautiful, Peeta! Your words brought tears to my eyes, very well-done," she smiles, clapping my shoulder lightly.

I find that after pouring my heart into the speech, I have no words left to speak. I simply nod and try to ignore the suffocating sadness that grips my heart.

"Okay, everybody! Back to the train now. We'll be back for the small dinner. I mean, it's no Panem party but every District does the best they can, right?" she whispers the last, ushering us all back to the awaiting cars.

Later that night, after the dinner I lock myself in my room. I take a seat at the edge of the bed, clasping my hands together with my head bowed, as if in prayer.

A timid knock on the door jolts me out of my reverie. I stand up slowly and press my body against the door, letting the cold cool down my fevered cheek.

"Yes?" I ask, not wanting to open the door.

"Peeta, are you alright?" Portia's voice floats through the door.

I wonder if she noticed that I wasn't my usual self ever since delivering the speech.

_Of course she did, Mellark. She knows you in and out._

"I'm fine, Portia," I tell her in a voice just above a whisper, not really caring whether she hears or not.

"Alright, Peeta. Have a good night," she replies in the same tone.

_Highly unlikely._

I nod, which is absurd since she can't see me. I push myself off the door and grab my neck, trying to pull off the yellow tie that Portia expertly tied for me. I look down at the chocolate brown suit and kick my shoes off, not caring whether the leather gets scratched. I tug hard unthinkingly, almost choking myself and end up having a coughing fit.

Another knock sounds at the door, this time louder.

"Yes?" I sputter.

"Peeta, it's Katniss. Open up, won't you?" she asks, her voice soft but firm.

I reach for the door, unlock and open it, letting her in.

She closes the door behind her and locks it.

"What's wrong? Why is your face red?" she asks concernedly.

"I tried pulling my tie off. Looks like Portia's much more skilled at tying them than I gave her credit," I say, trying to make a joke of it.

A corner of her lips quirks up as she steps closer to me.

"I can help you. Wouldn't want a fellow victor to choke himself to death, now would I?" she asks dryly.

I still myself as her nimble fingers expertly untie the knot, giving it a tug when she's done. She gives me a little smile as she hands it to me.

"Thank you," I tell her quietly. "You're rather good at undoing them."

She twists her lips cruelly before looking away.

"I tried to catch your eye back at the Justice Building after your speech."

"Oh?"

"I just… I saw the look on your face. When you were giving the speech, I mean. That's precisely how I felt after delivering my own. Their poverty and troubles made me feel so helpless. Especially since Rue's and Thresh's family were front row… and knowing that they would never see someone they love again, it was terrible," she admits in a low voice, swallowing thickly. "I just wanted to… comfort you, I suppose. To let you know that you're not alone."

"You're right about the feeling of helplessness. It's just so great that I feel like it's going to swallow me whole. There I was, standing before them in clothes that would probably be able to keep them fed for months. Not only that, but I'm going to live comfortably, receiving a large sum amount of money for the rest of my life while they have to suffer to get paid for one measly day," I confess in a low voice, looking down as my eyes begin to fill with tears.

"Peeta, you're just incredibly noble," she sighs, stepping closer to me.

Before I realize what's going on, she wraps her arms around my body and presses her own closer to mine. I become immobilized for a moment, my mind going haywire at having her so close to me. Once the initial shock wears off, I finally crush my arms around her, clinging on to her as sobs take over my body. Katniss simply holds me, whispering soothing words and caressing my hair. My tears soak through her top but she makes no move to step away.

Finally, after feeling like I've no more tears to cry, I pull away, feeling incredibly shy.

_Did I just cry on Katniss' shoulder? What must she think of me? As if her opinion of me couldn't drop any lower._

"I'm sorry, Katniss," I mumble, avoiding eye contact.

"Peeta, it's okay. I wish I could have had someone hold _me_. Besides, we're in this together, right?" she asks quietly.

I finally look at her, certain that I must look awful but she merely gives me a little smile.

"I'm sure that Haymitch would have laughed had I expressed my feelings. Of course, he would have understood but he'd never show as much," she sighs.

"Will we turn like that too, Katniss?" I ask dreadfully.

"I don't think you would, Peeta. Like I said, you're so good," she chuckles softly, not a trace of sarcasm in her voice. "You'll always be yourself. Me, on the other hand…"

"You're obviously good too, Katniss. If you weren't, you wouldn't be here," I point out.

She looks away from me, clearly uncomfortable at the turn of conversation.

"Peeta, I… keep trying to stay away from you but I can't seem to," she whispers.

I blink, feeling confused at the change of topic.

"What?" I ask her breathlessly.

"Since I couldn't mentor you, I made do with watching you. I made sure to tell people to sponsor you. Every time you escaped unscathed, I sent a little prayer to the heavens. I could not bear to watch the boy who gave me life die before my very own eyes. I'm sorry that I mocked you for not killing anybody. I can't tell you how equally surprising and comforting that is."

"Why?"

"Because you're still the boy with the bread."

"I saw people die, Katniss… I'm not the same person I was," I murmur, looking away from her.

"But you didn't lower yourself, Peeta! You maintained your integrity and I respect you so much for that," she says, raising her voice slightly.

Shame gnaws at my insides.

_I have to tell her._

"I killed Octavius," I blurt out.

She frowns, staring at me with uncertainty.

"You… what?"

"I slit his throat to lessen his pain," I admit, biting my lip.

"That… you did him a favor, Peeta."

"I sped up his death," I mumble, feeling incredibly guilty.

"You did it out of kindness," she whispers, stepping closer to me and placing her hand on my arm. "Besides, it brought you back. Look at you, standing here before me."

"You were worried about me," I state, bemusement sweeping through my body.

"Were you worried about me?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"There you go," she says simply, shrugging her shoulders.

"But… why?" I demand uncertainly.

Her eyes soften as she steps back carefully.

"Because you've always been the boy with the bread to me," she answers ardently. "I hope you're feeling better now. Goodnight, Peeta, try to get some sleep."

That said, she's gone.

I stare at the spot where she stood, thinking over what she just said.

_What does she mean? Especially the part about not being able to stay away from me. Could she possibly…? No, no. Don't get too carried away, Mellark. She may have been saying it out of kindness. Then again, Katniss isn't an overly kind person. Could this be yet another crack? I can only hope. But it gets me **that** much closer to whatever it is she's hiding._

* * *

Thank you for reading! You can review if you'd like, but you don't really have to. Of course, reviews help me see just how well the story is doing so far.

But anyway, I hope everybody has a happy Thanksgiving and see you all on (Black) Friday. :)


	4. Chapter 4

This chapter has definitely been one of my favorites to write. I hope everybody enjoys reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

* * *

With each District that we've stopped at, Katniss and I've slowly grown closer together. Of course, she makes sure to hide it from everybody else, which initially bothers me but I know that she must have a perfectly legitimate reason and that's good enough for me. Each night, I wander to the last compartment in the train and Katniss joins me, holding my hand tightly as we observe the night sky. As much as I'd love to think that there's a romantic undertone to the hand holding, I know that it's a gesture of camaraderie. Needless to say, I truly appreciate it.

When we arrive in District 4, I understand why Katniss said that I'd like it. There are strange trees towering over us and I can smell the salt in the air. The sky's the clearest blue I'd ever seen dotted with white fluffy clouds. There's a paved path that leads to the Justice Building, but surrounding that is something I'd never seen before: sand. It's a soft beige color and it glints under the sun's warm rays; I'd never been so overwhelmed to chuck my shoes off and bury my toes in the sand, but I know that it would promptly give Effie a heart attack.

After delivering my speech, we're lead back by Effie as per usual to go back to the train to change for the party later that night.

Portia's quiet and I feel bad for keeping her out ever since District 11. She silently sweeps off imaginary dust off my shoulders before stepping back to scrutinize my overall look.

"All ready," she announces before starting to walk toward the door.

"Portia, please wait," I call out to her.

She stops mid-step and slowly turns to face me.

"I'm sorry. I… there are some things I wasn't ready to deal with and… being alone helps. I apologize that I hurt your feelings, it wasn't my intention," I sigh wearily, an unhappy expression taking over my face.

Portia's shoulders droop and shakes her head, her bleached curls bouncing around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry for giving you the cold shoulder. I may not know what you're going through but I at least understand _that_, Peeta. It's okay," she says, finally smiling.

I smile back at Portia, relieved that our misunderstanding is over. I glance at the mirror and look away dismissively before turning to look at myself again. While I'd initially thought that the suit was a simple lovely cream shade, the lights on the ceiling bring out the golden threads that are woven into the material; it reminds me of the way the sun caught the sparkles in the sand earlier. I step closer to the mirror, my eyes looking down at my tie. It's an extraordinary pearly color; if I turn to the left it gains a pink tint and when I move to the right it shifts to lavender. I grin at Portia and glance back at the tie, now its normal pearl color. Before I can twist myself once more, the knot itself catches my attention.

"Portia, how did you tie the knot?" I ask curiously.

She chuckles softly and crosses her arms.

"It's called an Atlantic knot. Did you notice the sheen of it? My creation to resemble a pearl," she smiles proudly.

"You're brilliant, Portia. I love it. Goes very well with the sea theme," I laugh, looking down at my sea foam-colored shirt.

"I bet you haven't even noticed your cuff links, have you?" she smirks, crossing her arms.

I instinctively raise my arms to inspect said cuff links and sure enough, I hadn't noticed that they're tiny pearls.

"Well, Peeta, I've got to change now. But I'll be seeing you in a bit."

"See you, Portia. Thanks again!"

She gives me a salute and walks out the door.

_I wonder what Katniss is wearing. One way or another, she's always wearing a color similar to me. Could she be wearing a cream dress? Or would that be too obvious? No, I don't think so. She doesn't seem to be overly fond of light colors. Then that leaves this sea foam color… it's certainly a possibility. I doubt that she'd wear black, it's far too warm for it. I guess I'll be finding out in a bit._

Soon Effie comes knocking on the door, urging me to come out. I take one last nervous look at myself and breathe deeply before exiting my room.

"Ah, there you are, Peeta! My, my… you look very handsome! I daresay as handsome as Finnick Odair!" she chirps, giving me a hearty wink.

_That's very complimentary but high unlikely, Effie. I've heard what women think of him and I very much doubt I'm going to elicit the same whispers._

But I give Effie a smile and thank her nevertheless. She beams at my politeness and screams for Haymitch, patting her cotton candy pink wig down.

"This man, who does he think he is? We're going to be late!" she seethes under her breath, shaking her head.

Cinna and Portia arrive next and lagging behind them is Katniss. It feels as if my heart stops when she comes into view. She's wearing a floor-length gown, the same color as my shirt (as I correctly guessed earlier). The skirt is gauzy, with tiny sparkles spread out near her hips all the way to the hem, where stones and pearls are beaded and more closely knit. The bodice of the dress has a sweetheart neckline and it too, twinkles with diamonds that are spread throughout, very much like the skirt. There are so sleeves resting on her shoulders, but there's sea foam lace grazing her upper arms, fluttering. On her neck rests the most impressive pearl necklace I've ever seen. There's layer upon layer upon layer of pearls strung on invisible thread, making the pearls look like they're floating on her neck. She wears tiny pearls on her earlobes with glistening diamonds dripping from her wrists. Lastly, I notice that her hair is swirled into an updo, where a comb with sparkling starfish and pearls rests. The front of her hair is parted on the side, the streak of her curled out and to the side, giving her a glamorous look.

"Katniss," I breathe out, still feeling stunned. "You look very…"

The corners of her smile curl up as she looks at me up and down.

"You look very as well, Peeta," she teases, eyes sparkling.

I laugh delightedly, straining to breathe normally.

"Okay, time to get in the cars!" Effie calls out, clapping her hands together.

I'm not shocked when I see Katniss climbing into a car with Portia and Cinna but a part of me wishes I could ride with her.

_Easy there, Mellark. You'll be able to spend as much time as you want with her at the party. If nobody else tries to steals her attention, that is._

We finally arrive and as soon as I step out of the car, I can hear the ocean waves crashing nearby. Eagerly, I turn to look at Effie.

"Effie, do my ears deceive me or is there a beach nearby?"

"That is correct. But this is no time to be thinking of frolicking on the beach, Peeta. You have important people to meet. It's of the utmost importance that you make friends with the Victors of this district because… you never know," she answers primly.

I sigh inwardly but feel slightly vindicated when I see Haymitch rolling his eyes at her. Effie ushers me into the ballroom and I'm pleased though not wholly surprised to see that it's decorated with a sea theme.

After introducing me to the people who Effie deems most prominent, she finally excuses me, telling me to 'go have fun.' I smile at her thankfully and almost at once search for Katniss. My eyes finally spot her talking to Finnick Odair, who's looking every bit dashing in a black suit and a molten gold bowtie. A part of me feels put out but I remind myself that Katniss isn't mine and can speak to whomever she pleases.

"Excuse me," calls a woman's voice behind me.

I turn around and see a woman who I think is what mermaids must look like in fairy tales. She's smiling openly at me, showing off her pearly white teeth.

"Hi," she says a moment later, a beautiful blush creeping onto her cheeks. "I'm sorry to bother you but I just _had_ to meet you. My name is Lavinia Mere."

I look into her deep green eyes and chuckle, finding her coyness charming. She has rich auburn hair that's sculpted into waves and skin so bright and pearlescent that it looks like porcelain. She's wearing a glittering emerald dress that matches her eyes with a rope of diamonds on her neck.

"Hello Lavinia, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm—"

"Peeta Mellark. I know who you are," she finishes for me.

Now I feel my own cheeks redden and look down at my shoes for a moment before turning back to her.

"Are you a victor, Lavinia?"

Her thin eyebrows rise up on her forehead and she shakes her head.

"Goodness gracious no, Peeta. I'm merely daughter to very important parents. But I watched the Games and found your act incredibly honorable. Not something one sees very often in the Games," she adds in a whisper, leaning closer to me after glancing around nervously.

"Thank you, Lavinia," I tell her earnestly. "I just couldn't bring myself to—"

"I can imagine," she interrupts in a whisper, green eyes wide with comprehension. "Would you like to dance?"

I feel slightly thrown off by her question but don't hesitate in telling her yes. She steps closer and I place a hand on her waist, the sequins of her dress tickling my palm and gently take her other hand in mine.

"Have you danced before?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?" she smiles, arching a brow.

"Of course. I just don't dance a lot. But I've been told I'm good at it," I shrug humbly.

She flashes a bright smile at me and laughs, making me feel warm on the inside.

_Why can't Katniss be like this? I know we've gotten closer these past few days but her smiles are rare and her laughs even more so. She only presses her hand over mine, not even bothering to hold it… I suppose beggars can't be choosers. I wish she could open up to me, tell me about herself but nothing. Though I suppose having her next to me at night is certainly better than nothing. Oh, Katniss, why must you continue to be so elusive to me? Even now when we're supposed to be closer than ever?_

The music softens, slowly turning into a ballad and Lavinia wraps her arm snugly around my shoulders, bringing us even closer. I give her a tense grin, one she returns and the warmth in my chest comes back. We sway in perfect rhythm and I notice that more and more people are turning to look at us.

"I think people are staring at us," I whisper loudly, feeling my cheeks redden once more.

"It's only natural, I think. Besides, why shouldn't they? We do make a rather attractive couple. Not to mention we're superb dancers," she smiles, lifting a corner of her lips.

I feel my heart stammer when she mentions the word 'couples' but decide that she means nothing of it.

I do, however, find her incredibly beautiful even in the dim lighting. It wouldn't be difficult for me to lean over and press my lips against hers, but then again, I'm sure that Effie would tell me off for making out with a stranger on the dance floor. I chuckle inwardly at the very thought of Effie's ridiculous wig sliding off in the heat of the moment and getting stepped on.

_Perhaps it would do me good to kiss this girl. She seems to like me and she's not hard on the eyes. But I know that it would mean nothing to me. Sure, I'd enjoy it but she doesn't send my pulse running with her smile… at least not the way Katniss' does. Is this how it's going to be for the rest of my life? Comparing every woman to her, only to have her fall short? Now for the complicated question: who would be the one falling short? The woman, simply because she's not Katniss? Or Katniss because she doesn't feel what I so desperately want her to feel?_

I continue to muse idly before noticing that Lavinia's face is getting closer to mine.

_Oh, well… looks like the kiss is going to happen after all. It wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to turn her down, now would it?_

But just before our lips meet, I feel somebody grab my shoulder and pull me away from Lavinia. I whirl around, ready to give whoever rudely interrupted a piece of my mind when I see Katniss standing there with Finnick Odair. Her expression would indicate that she's bored, but I can't help but notice the strange sparkle in her eyes.

"Peeta! Am I interrupting?" she asks, tilting her head innocently.

Even now I can't help but laugh. Katniss smiles smugly, glancing at Lavinia before turning to look back at me.

"I don't think the two of you have been formally introduced. Peeta, meet Finnick. Finnick, this is Peeta, my soon-to-be mentoring _partner_," she says, eyeing Lavinia once more.

Finnick throws Katniss a look before extending his hand out to me and shake it before both of us pull away at the same moment. I can't help but notice just how much _more_ handsome and intimidating he looks close up.

"Kat has told me all about you," he smiles broadly at me.

"Finnick, I've told you millions of times not to call me that," she hisses, narrowing her eyes at him.

He simply gives her a charismatic smile before turning his attention to me once more.

"I've watched your Games and I've got to say that I found you very admirable, which isn't something I say very often when it comes to tributes," he says, lowering his voice.

"Thank you, Mr. Odair."

"Please," he says, waving his hand around elegantly. "Call me Finnick."

I smile genuinely at him, feeling that Finnick and I could be great friends if given the chance.

"Very well, Finnick," I chuckle timidly.

He smiles with pleasure and turns his attention to Lavinia.

"Well, well… looks like we haven't been introduced yet. You _must_ know who I am, obviously. But who are you?" he smiles seductively at her, lowering his voice to go with the look in his eyes.

"I'm… I'm… my name is Lavinia. Lavinia Mere. A pleasure, Finnick," she stammers, extending her hand to put it in Finnick's outstretched one.

_My goodness, he's good._

"Lavinia, such a befitting name for a beautiful woman," he murmurs, brushing his lips against her knuckles.

She reddens, glancing down shyly but smiling with satisfaction nonetheless.

"Lavinia, may I have this dance?" he asks, raising his eyebrow imperiously.

She barely manages to nod before he sweeps her into his arms but not before turning to give Katniss the most fleeting of winks.

_Or maybe I just imagined it. It's as if… no, Katniss would never do that. Why would she want Finnick to distract Lavinia? All the better for me, I suppose. It was nice, dancing and conversing with her but I'd much rather be with Katniss. It seems like I never tire of how perfectly pathetic you sound, Mellark._

I turn to look at Katniss, who's watching Finnick twirl Lavinia around the dance floor with poise and ease.

"Not jealous, are you?"

She frowns and turns to look at me.

"Why would I be jealous?"

"Isn't Finnick your boyfriend or something?" I ask, needing to get the question that I can't get out of my head answered, no matter how absurd it sounds out loud.

Katniss stares at me with wide silver eyes for a moment before breaking out in guffaws.

"Finnick… my boyfriend…" she laughs, shaking her head.

The sound of her laugh fills the cracks in my lonesome heart and soon my own laughter joins hers. After a minute or so she takes a steadying and deep breath, her face bright pink.

"God forbid. No, he's not my boyfriend," she chuckles, casting one last glance at Finnick before walking away.

"Hey, where are you going?" I ask, not wanting her to leave my side yet.

"Come and you'll see," she smiles mysteriously at me.

I grin and follow her through the crowd, thankful for the dimmed lights because otherwise I might be recognized and get stopped. I make sure not to get too close to Katniss lest I step on the back part of her dress that trails behind, glittering like sea foam in the darkness.

We finally reach the double doors and Katniss turns around to make sure I'm still following. Seeing that I am, she gives me a satisfied smile and steps outside. Mystified, I continue to follow her and take a deep breath of the balmy and salty air. I'm not even sure where she's leading me and part of me thinks 'who cares?' though a larger part grows more curious by the minute. Soon, the music that swells from the ballroom lessens and the sound of crashing waves gets louder.

Excitement grows in the pit of my stomach as Katniss leads me down into a wooden bridge. All I see is her outline and for a brief moment I realize that I'd follow her anywhere, even down to hell itself. She finally comes to a stop and stoops down, hopping on one foot.

"Katniss, what are you doing?" I laugh, catching up to her.

"I'm taking my shoes off. It's not very comfortable to walk with heels in the sand," she explains as she reaches for her other foot.

I just continue to watch her amusedly, leaning against the rail and tucking my hands into my pockets. She straightens up and leaves her heels discarded, walking onto the sand.

It's then that I'm struck mute at the beauty of it all.

The full moon is reflected on the surface of the dark ocean, its rays shining upon the sand, making it shimmer. The bright stars are spread throughout the inky sky, reflected perfectly against the water and seem to twinkle and flicker at me the closer I get. The palm trees (I was informed of their name) sway to and fro in the gentle breeze.

I step forward eagerly, not bothering to take my shoes off and feel my feet sink uncomfortably into the sand.

"Peeta, what are you doing? If Effie sees you all sandy…" she calls out to me but ends up giggling.

Half of her face is shadowed, so I step closer until we're at arm's length away. She stares intently at me, her silver eyes looking translucent in the moonlight. They roam my face, as though she's never seen me before in her life. Her gaze is so heated that I feel a tiny spark in my heart. She swallows visibly before stepping closer to me, her lips parting slightly. I glance at them before looking into her eyes again, somehow able to tell that she's blushing.

"Majestic," I whisper softly. "I thought the scenery before me was breathtaking, but nothing could _ever_ rival you, Katniss."

Her expression softens, the look in her eye growing fiery; but at the same time I also notice how glassy they look.

"What's wrong? Did you get sand in your eyes?" I ask worriedly.

A tiny wrinkle appears between her brows and she shakes her head.

"That's the sweetest thing anybody has ever told me," she whispers, poking the tip of her tongue out to moisten her lips.

My smile grows and chuckle softly.

"Impossible. I'm sure you've been told that you're beautiful many times."

"Not the way you just did," she answers significantly. "You really should take your shoes off. You wouldn't want to miss how it feels to have sand between your toes."

I feel a twinge of annoyance that she changed the topic but smile at the reminder.

_I can't believe it. I simply can't. Who __**wouldn't**__ tell Katniss that she's beautiful? If I could, or more accurately, if she'd let me, I'd wax poetic about her._

"You're right, it is rather awkward to walk in shoes," I say, bending over to take them off.

"I told you so," she laughs, taking a few measured steps back.

I stuff my socks into the insides of my shoes and place them next to Katniss' heels.

"So neat," I hear her mutter.

I grin and walk back to her, finding the texture of the sand both strange and soothing.

"How weird," I comment, looking down at my bare feet.

"Now dig your toes in the sand," she says, watching me.

I do and let out a laugh.

"Be careful, though. There are seashells scattered everywhere and you might accidentally step on one, which kind of hurts."

I nod and squat to take a better look at the sand. Katniss does the same and brushes her fingers through the sand. I mimic her action and almost at once gather a fistful of sand and seashells. I peer down at them, brushing the sand off the palm of my hand and stare at them. I knew what they look like but I've never seen or touched any before. Almost at once, I tuck them into the inside pocket of my suit jacket.

Katniss watches me curiously with a small smile on her face.

I brush my fingers against the sand once more, giddiness welling up inside me. Katniss joins me and soon her fingers brush against mine accidentally. We both pull back quickly, jolted. We stare at each other with wide eyes, neither of us daring to speak. I finally let out a nervous chuckle and she raises a corner of her lips almost infinitesimally.

_What was that? I know she felt it too, the look on her face says it all. But… why? Maybe she was only surprised that you pulled away so quickly. Ugh, stop it Mellark. You're definitely over thinking things now. Just focus on getting your seashells and enjoying the scenery._

Taking advantage of my position, I roll up the hem of my pants, eager to tread on water. Katniss watches me silently, understanding my action. She starts to walk backwards into the water, facing me until I finally stand up and follow her.

The wet sand feels even squishier, although I find that it's not an unpleasant feeling. Once I reach the shore, the water feels pleasantly cool on my feet and I'm glad that I rolled the hem of my pants up because—

"Katniss! What are you doing? You're getting your dress wet!" I tell her urgently, thinking she didn't notice.

"Relax Peeta, I know. Besides, I doubt I'll use this dress again," she shrugs easily. "But thank you."

I let out a breath of relief and smile at her, watching how her dress floats dreamily around her.

"How I'd love to paint this," I lament softly.

"I see why. It's a beautiful night," she agrees.

"No, not just the landscape… this. You," I say, gesturing with my hands before looking down bashfully.

Katniss remains quiet and I start to suspect that I've upset her.

"I'm sorry, Katniss. I didn't mean—"

"Why can't you? Aren't artists supposed to have an impeccable memory?" she teases.

I snap my head up, half expecting to see her frowning only to see her grinning. I grin back and walk closer to where she's standing.

"Is that… are you being cheeky with me, Miss Everdeen?" I ask silkily.

Her eyes widen and she stares at me in shock before giving her head a little shake.

"I wouldn't _dream_ of it, Mr. Mellark," she replies, arching her brow.

I quickly stoop down, cupping my hand and splash some water onto Katniss, who simply stares at me with shock once more.

_Uh-oh, maybe that wasn't what she was expecting. Backtrack, Mellark, backtrack!_

"Katniss, I'm so—"

But before I can finish, I receive a mouthful of water. Katniss giggles merrily and steps away from me, anticipating my next attack.

We soon begin a splash war, our happy laughter filling the night air.

"Truce! I call a truce," I call out breathlessly, pressing a hand against my stomach in a futile attempt to subdue the pain from laughing.

"I didn't think you'd give up so easily," Katniss smirks but acquiesces to my truce.

"I don't. I simply want to enjoy whatever time we have left on here wisely."

Her smile slides off her face and she turns to look at the bridge from where we arrived.

"Would you dance with me, Katniss?" I ask, extending my hand out.

She turns to me again, an abashed expression clear as day on her face.

"I can't."

"What?"

"I can't dance," she explains.

I shrug and step closer to her.

"_I_ can," I say simply, smiling enticingly at her.

She gulps nervously and places her cool hand in mine. I quickly pull her close to me before she can change her mind. A little gasp escapes her lips, her breath tickling my throat. I chortle, hoping it doesn't sound as flustered as I feel. The last I'd been this close to her was when she hugged me back in District 11 and feel that's been far too long since then.

I hold her hand firmly but tenderly and wrap my arm around her tightly, placing my hand in the middle of her back and spreading my fingers out. I feel a shiver run through her body and can swear I've _just_ heard a sigh escape her lips, but maybe it's just wishful thinking. She looks up at me, her gaze looking as anxious as I feel. I take the lead easily, finding her clumsy sways adorable. Once or twice she accidentally steps on me, which makes her cringe but I just smile, not minding at all.

The more I look into her eyes, the more I feel like I could fall headfirst into them. Twin pools that reflect my smiling face at me. My heart pounds steadily louder against my ribcage, observing how the little wisps from Katniss' hairline brush against her cheeks.

"I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever," I whisper, feeling a terrible pain wrench my gut.

"Me too," she answers simply, sounding as desolate as I feel.

In that instant, great warmth overpowers my sadness, pushing it away. A fire ignites in my heart and it spreads through my veins all over my body. A hope that I never realized I had sparks and for the first time, it feels like Katniss could come to love me as I love her.

"I'm glad you weren't mentoring me," I confess, feeling like this magical moment could be interrupted soon.

"How come?"

"I didn't want you to see me turn into a coward, or worse, a monster," I mutter, looking away in shame.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Peeta. I had faith in you," she admits.

I look up at her, hardly daring to believe her words.

"You… did?"

She gives me a warm little smile and opens her mouth to reply when an all-too familiar shriek fills the air.

"Effie," we both mutter, stepping away from each other.

"PEETA MELLARK AND KATNISS EVERDEEN. Just _what_ do you think you're doing? Get over here _this_ instant!"

I cringe at the level of her voice and it leaves us no other choice but to do as she says. We avoid looking at each in fear we might burst into laughter and we wouldn't want to upset Effie any further.

"At least you had the sense to take your shoes off," she huffs when she spots our shoes. "But Katniss! Did you get your dress wet?"

"Calm down Effie," Katniss sighs. "It's not like I'm going to wear this dress again."

Effie sputters and swells up visibly, undoubtedly getting ready to tell her off.

"Ouch!" Katniss hisses, looking down at her feet.

"What's wrong?" I ask anxiously.

"I stubbed my toe on something," she scowls, leaning down to pick something up near her toes.

I watch her curiously as she holds out a large oyster on her hand. She glares at it and raises her arm back, as if to throw it back into the ocean.

"Wait! I want it," I tell her suddenly, grabbing her arm quickly before she chucks it back into the water.

She gives me a look of surprise and stretches her hand out to me. I give her a wide smile, accidentally brushing my fingers against her palm as I take the oyster. She gives a little shudder and looks away, flustered.

"I'm waiting!" Effie calls out impatiently.

We scurry toward her, looking down guiltily. Or at least _I_ am. Katniss looks at her impassively, putting her shoes on slowly. I merely keep my head down as I put my socks and shoes on again.

"What will everybody think when they see your hem, sopping wet? So much for the good impression Peeta made," Effie frets.

"Trinket, calm down. They're kids, they were only having a good time. They survived the Games, let them have some damn fun. I daresay they deserve it," Haymitch huffs.

Effie looks like she wants to bite Haymitch's head off but refrains from replying. I look at him gratefully and he just smirks at me. We continue walking in silence, Katniss by my side. Once or twice her fingers brush against mine, making my heart leap to my throat. But this last time she finally grips my fingers, squeezing them gently. My heart flutters and I turn to look up at her. She remains looking straight but I can see a smile on her beautiful face, the moon shining against her back.

_Oh, Katniss. How I love you. I'll never forget this night, for as long I'll live. Maybe someday… someday you'll love me too._

* * *

I hope everybody had a great turkey day and I wish you good luck if you're partaking in Black Friday. May the odds be ever in your favor...

Okay, that was a bit cheesy.

As always, thank you so much for reading, reviewing, following and for putting my story on favorites. I appreciate it very much. :)

See you all on Monday!


	5. Chapter 5

Hello everybody! Thanks for the continued support for this story, I really appreciate it. So without further ado...

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

The rest of the Districts don't receive me as well as District 4 did, especially 1 and 2. They all look at me with thinly veiled hostility and there's something in the air that feels like resentment. As a matter of fact, as I recite my (given) speeches, I can almost hear an angry buzz in the air. I know it's not really me they hate, though. It's not as if the deaths of their tributes were by my hand but the fact that I survived solely means _they_ didn't. Still, we're all glad when it's time to make one last stop in the Capitol. Effie informs us that President Snow arranged yet another party for me, though this one will be attended by an even smaller and more prestigious crowd.

Ever since getting back to the train back in District 4, Katniss distanced herself from me. She no longer meets me in the last compartment and goes as far as avoiding looking at me. I wonder why, especially when we had such a good time on the beach. I try to think back if there was anything I did or said to make her uncomfortable but nothing comes to mind. As a matter of fact, that night's been the only time I've ever seen her so happy and relaxed. Or as relaxed and happy anybody in our position can be, anyway.

By the time Effie calls on me so we can make our way to the party, I discover that Katniss, Cinna and Portia have already left for the mansion.

_She's really going out of her way to avoid me. I'm starting to get tired of this hot and cold she keeps giving me. She's going to talk to me tonight, whether she likes it or not._

I rest my hands atop my knees, tapping my foot on the floor nervously. Portia dressed me in all black today, making me look much more polished and collected than I feel. I keep reminding myself to breath steadily as Effie goes on about all the officials that'll be attending the party tonight. I nod and smile at the right places while Haymitch makes no effort to at least make himself look interested. He stares out the window in his usual surly manner but I have a feeling that he's probably just as disconcerted as I am.

We finally arrive at the President's grand mansion in City Circle. I wave and smile at the crowd and cameras, still unaccustomed to all the attention they throw at me. It's as if I'm something shiny and new and they just _have_ to get a piece of me. To them I'm Peeta Mellark, Hunger Games victor while I still see myself as Peeta Mellark, son of a District 12 baker. However, I know the fascination will last long enough until the next Games where there'll be a new victor... it's an endless, vicious cycle.

Just as soon as I walk into the ballroom, my eyes scan the room for Katniss. I'm mobbed by people once again, congratulating me and asking to shake my hand. I oblige, smiling back graciously at them until I spot her. She's surrounded by a throng of admirers, very much like the first time I saw her.

_How does she do it? She can barely tolerate my attention yet she seems to thrive when strangers give it to her. Do you really dislike me so, Katniss? Is my presence really so overbearing? I thought that at the very least we had come to some kind of understanding..._

"Excuse me," I murmur before heading towards her.

I manage to catch her eye but she looks away immediately, laughing throatily. I narrow my eyes at her as I come to stand before her.

"Good evening, Katniss," I tell her smoothly, watching how the men part and murmur to each other at my arrival from the corner of my eye.

A look of annoyance crosses her beautiful face for a moment before giving me an overly happy smile.

"Peeta, how lovely it is to see you!"

"I could say the same. You sure look ravishing," I compliment her, ignoring the way my heart stutters at the sight of her wardrobe.

Katniss wears black from head to toe again. There's a sparkling black choker wrapped around her neck and it seems to be attached to her top, a black satin blouse with a deep neckline. The beaded strings from her choker drape gracefully across her collarbones and shoulders, shimmering in the lights. Her leather skirt hugs her waist and legs until it hits a few inches below her knees, where it swells to the floor. Her lips are painted a bright scarlet and her eyes look even more feline because of her makeup. Her dark hair is braided across her head, making it look like she's wearing a shining, dark crown. Black bracelets glitter at her wrists and her earlobes are adorned with black diamond studs.

"You look great, as usual," she compliments me in turn.

I nod to her in thanks and step as close as I dare to.

"May I have a word, Katniss?"

Her face tightens for a moment before looking around at the men who can't seem to keep their eyes off her.

"I'm busy right now, Peeta," she whispers agitatedly, leaning closer to me.

"Please Katniss, it's urgent," I whisper back, trying to plead with my eyes.

"Not now," she tells me sternly, straightening up before smiling at the men around her.

I glare at her but end up nodding curtly.

_She wants to play hard to get? That's fine by me. She'll talk to me before the night is over, whether she likes it or not._

"Peeta!" a voice calls out behind me.

Katniss' eyes widen comically as she stares at the person behind me. Curious, I turn and to my astonishment see Lavinia standing before me. She looks fantastic in a nondescript royal purple dress, her hair swept back into an updo.

I grin at her, extending my arms out to her. She laughs and walks into them, giving me an affectionate hug. We part and she beams at me, looking at me appreciatively.

_Imagine that, a beautiful woman is happy to see me. Who would have thought?_

"What are you doing here?" I laugh, still not able to believe she's really standing in front of me.

"I got an invitation from President Snow, can you believe it?" she asks, shaking her head with disbelief.

_President Snow brought her here? I know he probably has eyes and ears everywhere, but… this seems like too much of a coincidence. I don't like this, I don't like this at all. Wait a minute… could he also know what happened between Katniss and me on the beach? Is that why she pulled away so abruptly? It would certainly make sense… but why didn't she speak to me about it? And why should it concern him anyway?_

"That's great, Lavinia!" I say a little too enthusiastically, giving her my trademark winning smile. "It's really good to see you."

"It's good to see you too. I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"Yet here you are," I motion.

"I'm sorry that I just left so suddenly with Finnick. He's certainly charming, isn't he?" she mutters, looking starry-eyed for a moment.

"He sure is. I fully understand the fascination women hold for him now," I joke.

Lavinia laughs, tilting her head back.

"He's one of a kind, that's for sure. But then again, so are you," she tells me, giving me a coy smile.

I feel a blush creep onto my cheeks and look down timidly.

"I don't think Katniss Everdeen likes me very much," she says unexpectedly.

I look up at her, feeling mildly puzzled.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, for one, she won't stop glaring at me," Lavinia chuckles, glancing at her.

"She has absolutely no reason to like you. She barely even knows you," I tell her hotly.

"This is true. But then again, maybe she dislikes me for another reason," she says mysteriously.

"Lavinia, you've lost me."

"Maybe she doesn't like me because I'm talking to you," she says, shrugging a freckled shoulder.

"What? That's ridiculous," I laugh, shaking my head.

"She certainly made it a point to separate us last time," she reminds me, tilting her head slightly.

_That's right, we almost kissed. But Katniss wouldn't… would she?_

She takes in my bewildered expression and laughs kindly.

"That's impossible. She doesn't even like me."

"The way she keeps looking at you beg to differ."

I frown, unable to ignore the butterflies in my stomach.

"She's busy with her admirers," I mumble.

Lavinia gives me a long look, one I squirm under before raising my hands before me, as in a truce.

"How about we dance instead?" I ask her, desperate to change the conversation.

"I'd like that," she smiles, taking my outstretched hand.

I lead her onto the dance floor, twirling her about and receiving many admiring looks. I try not to look at her face directly, lest she wants to continue where that almost-kiss left off. But just as soon as I spin Lavinia, I catch Katniss staring at me. Her expression looks unhappy, her smoky eyes narrowed down to slits.

_Oh, does the high and mighty Katniss not like the fact that I'm having fun? Maybe if she had given me a moment of her precious time, this could have been her in my arms. But what if Lavinia's right? I mean, other than the time we spent together on the beach… I don't know how she feels about me. Or if she even feels anything toward me. What a strange, confusing woman. Even so, you can't help but moon over her, can you Mellark?_

The next time I try to get a look at Katniss, I notice her absence. Worry spreads through me and I can't help but wonder where she went and whether she's alone.

_She's at liberty to do whatever she pleases. Just like I'm free to spend my time with Lavinia, who clearly likes me and doesn't mind my company._

But four songs later, I begin to grow truly anxious. I lead Lavinia to a waiter, who hands us glasses of champagne. While I would have preferred water, it's certainly better than staying thirsty. I quickly drink it in two gulps, setting the glass down on an empty table. Lavinia looks at me oddly, noticing how I keep glancing around the ballroom.

"Lavinia, if you'll please excuse me. I've… well, restroom," I lie easily, giving her an awkward little smile.

She eyes me suspiciously but nods slowly, knowing that she really has no other option than to let me go.

"Katniss, where have you gone?" I mutter uneasily, walking across the ballroom.

_Well, Mellark, where was she when you found her after you met her? _

I look around, making sure that nobody's following me and exit the room, stepping into the garden.

_But where could she be? She could be anywhere! Damn it, Katniss… of all the places to get lost in, you choose the garden. Is there a reason for that? Did you need privacy, perhaps? But privacy to do __**what**__? Come on, Mellark… you saw the way those men were looking at her. Would it be so difficult to believe that one of them managed to convince her to take a romantic stroll?_

I frown and shake my head, appalled at the unusually jealous thoughts running through my head.

_I have no right to be thinking of her like that. There's no doubt that she would slap me if she knew what just crossed my mind. But a part of me can't help but feel that way… maybe I am jealous, after all. While I'd never force her into talking or spending time with me, a part of me can't help but... resent the fact that she prefers the company of strangers to mine. Damn, that sounds more self-centered than I thought._

I come to a stop, thinking I've heard a noise. I look around the dimly lit garden and hear a soft noise again. I frown in concentration before realizing that the noise is coming from up ahead. I start walking again, making sure to walk as quietly as possible. Soon I hear the leaves rustle, the whimpering noises growing louder. I walk faster, adrenaline buzzing through my veins.

_Sounds like somebody's in trouble. _

I hear a man's heavy breathing along with what sounds like a very reluctant partner.

_This really isn't any of my business. Turn around, Peeta. Turn around before you get yourself in trouble. _

But despite the warning in my head, I keep walking until I'm facing the couple that's cloaked in the shadows. The strange buzzing travels up to my head, giving me a slight headache. I'm about to turn and leave them in peace when something glittering catches my eye.

"Please don't. Stop," the woman begs softly, trying to push the man off of her.

I feel myself freeze, recognizing the voice in the otherwise silent darkness.

A million thoughts run through my mind at the situation I've thrust myself upon, each one louder and more confused the last.

"Snow promised you to me. He told me I could have my way with you tonight. He warned me that you would put up a fight because it turns you on," he hisses in her ear.

She groans, letting out a whimper.

_What… is… this? Did I hear correctly? Snow promised him Katniss? How's that... how's that possible? _

I rush forward, feeling white hot fury pump through my veins.

"Did you not hear the lady? She asked you to stop," I say, jerking the man off of Katniss.

Her eyes lock onto my face and stares at me in amazement, mouth hanging open. The man scowls at me, clearly not appreciating the interruption.

"Who do you think you are? Oh, wait… I recognize you. Peeta Mellark. Don't tell me, did Snow promise her to you too? That bastard, I've always been suspicious of him..." he sighs heavily, shaking his head.

I feel my mouth fall open and I turn to look at Katniss, who looks defiant for a second before the expression withers before my eyes.

"Well, can't you just wait your turn? It'll be over in five minutes," he leers at Katniss.

I snap my mouth shut and stare at the man in incredulity, wanting nothing more than to take that smile off his face.

"No, I most certainly will not. You'll not put another hand on her unless you want to face the consequences," I threaten him, straightening to my full height.

The man raises a prominent eyebrow, staring at me with an unpleasant smile on his face.

"I bet you've had her before. Tell me, is she really worth all the hype? You have no idea just how long I've waited and nothing you say or do will stop me. So why don't you fuck off and let me do what I paid a hefty sum of money to do?" he tells me in a cheery voice, stalking toward Katniss once more.

My mouth hangs open yet again and despite my initial warning, I watch the man reach his filthy hand out to paw at Katniss. She stares at me with such vulnerability that I feel a horrifying fear for her grip my heart. The moonlight causes her tears to glisten and for a moment I see Katniss for what she truly is: a frightened 17-year-old girl and that alone erupts such lividity in me that I know I'll do anything to keep her from harm's way.

"Don't tell me that I didn't warn you," I murmur, stalking toward the man.

I reach out and grab a fistful of the man's coat before wrenching him back powerfully, feeling satisfaction how he stumbles into a rose bush. He snarls and runs at me, extending his hands out before him. But before he can get his hands on me I extend my arm, my closed fist connecting with the man's jaw; his head snaps back and I find myself smiling at the sound it makes.

Katniss lets out a startled scream and I tell her to stay back. The man shakes his head dazedly and stares at me with such hatred that it just fuels my own fury. He advances towards me once more, dark eyes glittering with what I presume to be tears of anger. He lunges and takes a swing at me but I manage to avoid it but not before slamming my elbow on his back. He yelps as he falls flat on his face while cold laughter erupts from my mouth.

"Did you really think it would be wise to undermine a victor's threat?"

_Oh, shit... did I just say that?_

I hope that he stays down but soon he lifts himself up, red-faced and clearly abashed. He growls and throws himself on me, wrapping his hands around my neck, somehow catching me off-guard. I bare my teeth him, gurgling and struggling for breath as his grip grows stronger.

"Peeta!" Katniss yells in distress.

Soon the man has me on my knees and smiles vindictively down at me. All too soon I hear Katniss ignore my advice and watch her jump onto the man's back. His eyes widen in surprise and his grasp on my neck immediately slackens, giving me the chance to throw a punch at his groin. He reels back in pain, Katniss still clinging on his back as she claws at his face.

"Katniss!" I sputter. "Get off him. Stand back!"

But the man grabs hold of Katniss' wrist and pulls her off, still holding on to her wrist. He tugs her toward him but not before slapping her with the back of his hand. She lets out a muffled scream and I feel my rage bubble over, deciding it's time to stand up, even if I feel slightly unsteady. Katniss falls back on the brick floor and the man reaches down at her, grabbing a handful of her necklace and ripping it off. The beads scatter noisily onto the paved garden floor and I pull the man back before he has another chance to hurt her. I quickly knee him in the groin once again, feeling wildly satisfied at his groan and throw a punch at his nose, elated when I hear it crack.

The man steps back, struggling to breathe through his nose and stares at us spitefully.

"Fine, fine… have it your way. But this isn't the last you've heard of me," he hisses, loping off.

I watch his back disappear into the darkness before turning to Katniss, who's still on the floor and clutching her cheek.

"Katniss, Katniss… are you okay?" I ask, grabbing her shoulders gently.

She stares off into the distance as if in a daze for a few seconds before bursting into silent tears, shaking her head vehemently.

"Katniss, please… what's going on? What is this? What did he mean about paying?"

She takes several steadying breaths and forces herself to look me in the eyes.

"I'm… I'm… a prostitute. I'm one of Snow's many. I defied him, so as punishment he killed my family and forced me into prostitution," Katniss whispers through trembling lips, tears trickling from her eyes.

My eyes widen in bewilderment, unable to believe what she's saying yet knowing what she says is far too grave to not be true.

"You're… what? He killed your family? But… why?" I ask, shaking her as carefully as possible.

"That's why I'm always passed around from man to man when I'm here in the Capitol. Not all want sex, so talking to me and dancing counts. That's why I didn't want to get close to you. I was scared that he would find out…" she mutters, glancing around wildly.

"He would find out _what_, Katniss?"

"But it seems like he somehow found out about the night on the beach because he brought her here for you. That's why he set me up with that brute, to punish me," she shivers, closing her eyes and covering them with her hands as she shakes her head.

I frown, listening attentively to her babbling.

'_Her'? Does she mean Lavinia? Did Snow really bring her here for me? Just to make Katniss jealous? To punish her? But that would imply... that she cares for me._

She uncovers her eyes and takes a great, shuddering breath.

"I tried to stay away from you, Peeta, but I just couldn't. I've always been drawn to you, your smile and your charisma. I couldn't ignore you anymore. But deep down, I was so afraid for you. Afraid that he would use you to punish me," she prattles, staring deeply into my eyes.

"Katniss, you don't even like me," I sigh wearily, rubbing my jaw where the man punched me.

"That's not true. I pushed you away because I care for you. I always have," she confesses, her eyes welling up with more tears.

I blink, my chest filling up with hope at her words.

"But I just as well belong to Snow. I can't do anything about it. If I try to rebel, he'll up the punishment. I don't want to see you get hurt because of me, Peeta. I just couldn't bear it," she sobs.

I don't doubt that President Snow would use me against Katniss but everything seems so unreal at this moment.

"Let's go back to the train, Katniss. We'll have someone send Effie a message that we went back early, alright?"

"He'll know we're gone," she mutters fearfully.

"I'm sure Effie will want to go soon, you know how precise she is. Don't worry. Come on," I say, standing up painfully and helping her get up.

She stands unsteadily for a few seconds before reaching out to hold her tightly against me. We make our way out of the garden, taking the side exit so we don't have to cross through the ballroom. I call for our car and ask the valet to send a message to Effie. The man nods eagerly at me but gives Katniss a worried look. She _does_ look a little worse for wear. She has tear tracks on her cheeks, her necklace is broken and her hair is disheveled. Of course, can't overlook that her cheek is bright red.

"Had a little too much to drink and feel in one of the rose bushes," I tell the valet with a secretive air.

"Sadly, sir, not the first time it happens here."

I force a chuckle out and load Katniss into the car, who has seemingly entered into a catatonic state. She sits close to me and while I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around her, I know this isn't the right place or time. I also don't bother trying to talk to her in fear of being overheard but I do keep an eye on her. She's never failed to impress me with her strength but watching her now is truly inspiring; she merely stares out the window, hardly blinking at all. Then again, it may have to do with the shock that's taken over her.

We eventually arrive at the train and I guide her in silently. To my eternal relief, nobody comes out to greet us, and so I take her to her room. I'm not surprised to see that it's decorated much lavishly than mine is. There's a screen panel next to the window with garments strewn over the chairs.

"Katniss, you need to change. That doesn't look very comfortable. Besides, it's broken. Katniss, are you in there?" I whisper, brushing my thumbs tenderly against her tear-stained cheeks.

She looks at me with an empty expression and I see a bruise starting to form on her cheek. I grit my teeth angrily at the man who dared put his hands on her, wishing I could have had the chance to tear him apart from limb to limb. Her makeup is mostly gone from her tears and her lipstick is smudged from the man's unwanted kisses. An errant braid hands limply from her head, brushing against her shoulder blade.

"Katniss please answer me. I'm sick out of my mind with worry," I plead, taking her cold hand in mine and squeezing it. "If you say you care about me, please, answer me."

Something in her eyes finally flickers to life and blinks.

"I'm sorry, Peeta… I'm sorry," she breathes out before bursting into tears once more.

I sweep her into my arms and hold her, rubbing her back soothingly.

"Katniss, take a warm shower. It'll do you good. I'll wait here for you," I tell her, pulling away to look at her.

She nods and stands up wearily, grabbing an orange robe before heading into her restroom. As soon as I hear the water start, I rush to my room to grab a pair of pajamas and arrange pillows under the cover so it looks like I'm sleeping under it. I finally head back to Katniss' room and close the door behind me, locking it for good measure before sitting down at the edge of the bed.

To distract myself, I look at everything in Katniss' room. At her discarded socks. The makeup that sits on her vanity table. At the garments that peek from the open door in her closet. The water stops running and Katniss emerges from the bathroom a few minutes after.

She's wearing the most beautiful robe I've ever seen. It looks like a sunset to me, the way the orange becomes muted and swirls with a cranberry hue, which soon turns shifts to gold and pink and finally a hazy purple. Her hair is sopping wet and the bruise looks vivid on her cheek.

"Katniss, you should have dried your hair," I chide her gently.

She doesn't say anything and sits down at her vanity, reaching her hands behind her and twisting her glorious mane into a knot, sliding a sort of pin through it to keep it in place. I watch her, fascinated. How many times have I dreamed of touching that same hair? She finally turns to face me and I reach over to brush the wisps of hair framing her face back. I give her a small smile but she simply keeps staring silently at me. I skim my thumb on the bruise, cringing when she winces and murmur an apology to her.

"Does it hurt terribly? Is there anything I can do to make it hurt less?"

A strange emotion sweeps through her eyes and she finally shakes her head.

"It's not that bad. It was more the surprise of getting hit rather than the slap itself," she says, shrugging a shoulder.

"Do you… do you get hit often?" I ask warily.

"Never."

I let out a tiny sigh of relief and nod.

"What did you do to bring out such ire in him?" I whisper softly, feeling scared of her response.

"You remember how Rue died, right?"

"Yes, the boy from District 1 sent a spear into her stomach," I recall.

"Do you remember what happened afterward?"

"The hovercraft picked her up?"

"I guess they didn't air what happened…"

"What happened?" I ask curiously, feeling dread at her tone.

"I sang to her until she died, it was her last request. After she died, I made a bed of roses around her. Of course they wouldn't air it," she says bitterly, shaking her head.

"You did that for her?" I ask, her action touching my heart.

"I couldn't deny her a dying wish, Peeta. She reminded me so much of Prim…" she whispers, tears spilling from her eyes once more.

"She wasn't fortunate enough to have someone volunteer for her, though," I tell her grimly.

A tiny smile flits to Katniss' lips at my words.

"That's what I thought too. I think you would have liked her."

"I think so too. Did… did he really kill your family, Katniss?" I ask, unable rid myself of the thought.

A painful look crosses her face and she nods.

"Not he himself, of course. He had people do his dirty work for him," she says disgustedly.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Katniss. I know how much you loved Prim," I whisper, tears stinging my eyes.

"They're in a much better place than I am," she sighs, sitting on the bed next to me.

"Not as long as you've got me, Katniss. I'll protect you the best I can," I swear fervently, taking her hand in mine.

"That's sweet, Peeta and while I appreciate the thought… I can't involve you any more than I already have. I've already told you too much as it is."

"Katniss, I'll be as silent as a tomb," I joke, hoping to lighten her mood.

But she just looks at me somber gray eyes.

"I'm afraid that's where you'll end up, Peeta: a tomb."

* * *

Thank you for reading! See you all on Friday. :)


	6. Chapter 6

Hello everybody! As usual, thank you for putting this story on favorites or following it. :)

Disclaimer: I own nada.

* * *

Next morning at breakfast, everybody sits quietly. I'd feel more suspicious if everybody, even Effie herself, wasn't sporting a look of utter fatigue. So to make things less awkward (at least on Katniss' behalf, who looks like she's literally sitting at the edge of her seat), I decide to strike up a little bit of conversation.

"So, Effie... have fun last night?" I casually ask as I butter a piece of toast.

Katniss gives me a look that clearly says "are you out of your mind?!" but I give her the most patient expression I can muster before turning back to Effie.

"Oh, yes! It's one of the most extravagant Capitol parties I've attended. If you're somebody, you're guaranteed an invitation," she winks at me. "Of course, some people use this as means to show off their dowdy garments..."

She shudders visibly before taking a dainty sip of coffee.

_Well, Effie, it's not as if you have a "normal" sense of fashion either... I'm not even sure she knows what the meaning of the word is._

"I realize that even to you, my attire must seem queer at best; but there are people who just have zero sense of fashion," she shakes her head tragically. "Ooh, did you see Philomena's feather and sequin headdress?"

I know she's not addressing me so I just inwardly sigh with relief and sit back as Portia and Cinna chime into the conversation. Portia clicks her tongue and Cinna shakes his head sadly as more names are brought up.

For the life of me, I cannot imagine a woman with more outlandish taste than Effie. I know that the people of the Capitol have an eccentric taste in everything but it's not as if I was keeping an eye out on their fashions. Still, I've got to give credit where credit is due: Effie pulls off every single piece of clothing she dons magnificently. There have been times when I've wanted to paint her but then think of how strange it might be to have a portrait of Effie in my house... so I toss the idea away.

_I just cannot imagine her wearing plain ol' pajamas to bed... I wonder what she deems as appropriate sleepwear._

"I'm just _so_ lucky that I have you two on this wonderful team," she simpers, beaming at them.

Portia waves her hand airily as if to say "it's nothing" but Cinna merely smirks, which causes Katniss to giggle. This, unfortunately, brings her back into Effie's focus and Katniss herself seems to realize it because she cringes into her chair, clearly wishing she could vanish into the upholstery of the chair.

"Katniss, are you feeling better now?" she asks, a genuine look of concern appearing on her face.

As though sensing what was coming, Katniss hastily raised her cup to her lips and choked on her tea at Effie's inquiry; Cinna thumps her back gently while I manage to stay seated and not jump out of my chair to make sure she's alright.

_Overreact much, Mellark?_

Luckily, Katniss thought to cover up the bruise with makeup because it would keep from unleashing a multitude of questions that would be downright tricky to answer.

"I'm feeling much better, Effie, thank you. Everything was so delicious that I ended up overeating," she says, grimacing as if to prove her point.

But Haymitch just keeps staring at us, an unconvinced look in his eyes.

"Oh, that reminds me! My, how could I have possibly forgotten? I suppose the festivities must have gone to my head. President Snow has invited you two to stay in his mansion for a few days! How wonderful is that?" she smiles, looking as if it's the highest honor somebody could receive.

Katniss and I exchange a quick look of horror, one that goes over Effie's head. Haymitch, however, is quick to catch it.

"W-why would he do that, Effie? He's never shown us any preference over any other district," Katniss tells her, face gone pale.

"It's not unheard of that he invites victors and their escorts to stay," she replies placidly, cutting a piece of fruit in half.

The panic that I'd been struggling to rein in last night is now on the loose, digging its venomous claws into me.

"Can we say no, Effie? I have business waiting for me back home," I lie swiftly.

Effie looks up from her plate and frowns at me now.

"You too, Peeta? Don't you understand what a _privilege _it is? Besides, I've already answered on your behalf," she tells us haughtily.

I look at Katniss and watch as she lets out a tense breath, feeling precisely the same way. I clasp my clammy hands under the table, knowing there is no getting out of this.

"Well, that's that," Haymitch tells us gruffly before excusing himself.

I watch Haymitch, getting the feeling that even he knows this invitation can't possibly be good for us.

"We're expected at noon, so get ready," she chirps, clapping her hands lightly. "Remember to look _and_ to be on your best behavior. This isn't just another District we're visiting: it's the President's quarters."

"Excuse me," I mutter, feeling as though the toast I just ate is going to make a re-appearance soon.

Before walking away, I chance a glance at Katniss, who still looks dumbstruck. As much as I'd love to stay and try to comfort her, I feel as though I'm about to come undone myself. I can't have Effie suspecting anything is wrong; she can't know just how deep in shit we're about to be in. I need to be alone with my thoughts, to think up some kind of plan to let Katniss off the hook...

I barge into my bedroom and see Haymitch leaning against the closet door, arms crossed with an exasperated look on his face.

"Haymitch," I say, closing the door behind me quietly.

"What happened last night?"

"I don't know—"

"Don't _lie_ to me, boy. Tell me what happened last night," he demands.

I sigh frustratedly, glaring at my mentor.

"Can the attitude boy. You and the girl practically run out of a party hosted especially for _you_ and President Snow invites us to stay at his mansion the next day? Not a coincidence," he says, scowling deeply.

"I… stopped a man from raping Katniss," I tell him in a low voice. "We got into a fight. He slapped Katniss, throwing her on the ground and I wasn't going to let him get away with that. What kind of _cruel, sadistic,_ _vile_ excuse of a man does that to a woman? He finally gave up and warned us that we hadn't heard the last of him."

Haymitch's eyes widen for a moment and twists his mouth to the side, looking away from me. Seconds pass by before he finally clears his throat and forces himself to look at me.

"Son, you _do_ know he wasn't really raping her, right?"

"Haymitch, Katniss was whimpering and trying to push him off!" I seethe, banging my hand against the door.

"Katniss is a—"

"Prostitute, yes, I know," I answer briskly.

"Well, at least the cat's out of the bag."

"What are we going to do, Haymitch? We just can't let—"

"Stop right there, boy. Once Snow sets his mind on something, there is _no_ dissuading him. You can bet the bastard who hurt the girl snitched on you. This is not good," he sighs, rubbing his face wearily.

"I know what happened to her family," I whisper.

"It was terrible. She was on tour and when we got back… well, they didn't even bother picking up after themselves," Haymitch tells me in a low voice.

My heart tightens in my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

"At least she doesn't have anybody left," I cringe, knowing how awful it sounds.

Haymitch gives me a peculiar look.

"That's not quite right boy. She still has the Hawthornes," he shrugs. "And then there's you."

I straighten up, tilting my head slightly.

"Come _on_, kid. Anybody can see how hard she tries to stay away from you. Not to mention the little looks she gives you when she thinks nobody's looking," he snickers. "Besides, you can't fool me. I know you two slept together last night."

Heat rises to my face and so I shake my head vehemently, needing to clear things up for him.

"Yes, but it's not what you think! We merely shared a bed. She asked me to stay," I tell Haymitch, softening my voice.

"What you two do behind closed doors is none of my business, but you really need to be careful," he advises.

I nod distractedly, remembering what Haymitch said before embarrassing me.

"Hold on… she… looks at me?" I sigh, feeling my heart jump to my throat.

Haymitch merely rolls his eyes.

"Figured you'd obsess over that," he smirks.

"Well, excuse _me _Haymitch. I thought she hated me and to find all of this out…" I shake my head numbly. "But I need to put my happiness on the backseat for now. What can we do for her? Is _there_ even anything we can do for her?"

"We can just wait it out, kid. I know you won't like this, but please, try to keep your distance from her. Anybody can see you love her but that will only hurt you in the end, especially if it gets back to Snow. When we arrive to the mansion, try to be aloof to her. Don't stare at her for too long and don't initiate conversation."

"But Haymitch…"

"It's the best plan we've got, kid," he sighs, looking not so happy himself. "Don't worry, I'll make sure that we all get to spend time together. You can talk to her then."

I nod thankfully, biting my lip.

"You should start getting ready. I'm sure Portia will be here soon to help you pack. I'll make sure to have a few words with the girl as well. See you," he tells me, giving me a brief nod before slouching out of the room.

I let out a pent up breath and collapse back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

_How am I going to get through this? Easy, Mellark. Think of Katniss. Of the consequences __**she'll**__ have to face if you don't get this right. She's lost so much already, I couldn't bear to see her lose anything else. I can't believe she feels something for me. But I need to push it aside for now. Nothing is more important than her well-being, not even my selfish emotions. Maybe there'll be a day when I can freely pursue her… but for now, I must keep my distance._

* * *

An attendant waits for us at the entrance of Snow's mansion, welcoming us inside.

"Mr. Mellark, President Snow requests your presence," he tells me.

I feel myself become rooted to the spot and chance the briefest of glances at Haymitch.

"Right now?" I ask stupidly.

"Yes, sir."

I swallow anxiously and nod, plastering a pleasant smile on my face.

"Lead the way," I gesture.

I see Katniss staring me from the corner of my eye, her eyes round with terror with her mouth gone slack. As much as I want to look at her, I know it wouldn't help us in the least so I follow the attendant.

He leads me through a long hallway before it starts to curve confusingly and I try my best to remember the turns. He finally stops in front of a tall, ornate door and bows, leaving me alone. Raising a trembling hand, I knock on the door once before I hear the President biding me in. I gulp nervously and take a deep breath before opening the door and stepping into Snow's office. The scent of roses assails my senses and I struggle not to make a face at the overwhelming smell.

"Mr. Mellark, what an honor is it," President Snow bows his head at me from his desk.

_Okay, Peeta... showtime._

"Thank you, sir. For inviting to your beautiful home and for receiving me here," I smile, sitting down before him.

_More like forcing us to bend to your vindictive will._

He gives me a pleasant smile and nods, watching me silently.

"The odds were certainly in your favor, were they not Mr. Mellark? But I myself don't believe in luck. Funny, isn't it? I prefer to _make_ my own future, my choices," he tells me silkily, rolling a pen deftly between his fingers.

_It's a shame that a lot of us don't have the luxury to make that choice, Snow._

"But you became a victor nonetheless. Your district must have been proud."

"They were, sir. So soon after Katniss' victory, too," I tell him jubilantly, softening my expression as to not look smug.

Snow's white eyebrows rise on his forehead, watching me with a measured look.

"Ah, yes… Ms. Everdeen. What a magnetic and beautiful young woman. Am I right, Mr. Mellark?" he asks me softly, placing the pen carefully on his desk.

"Very much so, sir."

Snow continues to look at me with his cold, pale grey eyes while I try my best not to squirm in the overly cushioned chair.

"Last night's altercation in my garden was brought to my attention," he says softly, lacing his fingers together.

_Of course it has, these people are your lapdogs._

"I must commend you on your right hook, Mr. Mellark," Snow smiles, looking anything but impressed.

"Thank you, sir," I say, giving him my best winning smile.

"What I don't commend you on is forcing yourself into my personal affairs," he says coldly. "I understand that you did it out of chivalry. You must have believed Ms. Everdeen to be in real trouble because I'm sure that you would not have involved yourself otherwise. Am I right?"

"That is correct, sir," I answer truthfully.

"I know she confided in you," he says after a moment's silence.

I open my mouth to speak, not quite surprised, but Snow raises his hand to stop me.

"I have eyes and ears everywhere, Mr. Mellark. It will be most futile to lie to me."

I didn't intend to lie to Snow, I know things wouldn't have ended well for us if I did. I'd merely tried to justify ourselves to him, not that the man would have understood.

"She did, sir," I tell him simply.

Snow gives me a satisfied smile; one I want nothing more than to punch off his face.

"See? Was that so difficult? You will find that being honest with me will have its benefits, Mr. Mellark."

_I seriously doubt that._

"Of course, should you ever lie to me… you'll find that your choices will always affect those you love."

We stare at each other, his pale eyes hard and focused on my face. I force myself not to look away, knowing it would show him that he's won and I won't give him that satisfaction. But the question slips out before I can choke it back.

"What about you, sir?"

A corner of his lips curls up as he shifts his position.

"What about me, Mr. Mellark?"

"How do I know you're not lying to me?"

"I've found that in the end, lying gets you nowhere. It only wastes time and I loathe having my time wasted."

His cold eyes asses me, waiting for some sort of reply.

"You killed her family," I spit out at him.

A look of authentic remorse crosses his face before he shrugs his shoulders.

"It had to be done. It does not bode well for my reputation for someone like her to undermine me and get away with it."

"Perhaps, but that doesn't excuse the fact that you took the person she loved most away."

"Maybe a different punishment could have carried out. It might have been a precipitous decision, but it all happened in the heat of the moment," he shrugs easily.

I close my hands into fists and force myself to count down from 10 in my head.

"Besides, she still has her... _cousins_," he smiles mockingly. "I'm sure she knows better now and won't do anything rash to bring them harm."

_Katniss would die if something happened to Gale._

"But I'm afraid that I'd been focusing too much of my attention on Ms. Everdeen when it seems that I should have been paying more attention to you, Mr. Mellark."

I stare at him, feeling my blood drain from my face.

"You are altogether too willing to put yourself in danger for her. It's obvious you are besotted with her, even a blind man could see it. I'd hate to see the day when your heroic action goes wrong."

_He's threatening me. If he has zero repent over sending out a hit to kill her family, what does that mean for my family? I can't put them in danger and Katniss is in enough danger as it is..._

"What do you want me to do?" I ask, resigned.

"That's more like it," he says proudly. "You'll stay out of my business transactions featuring Ms. Everdeen. Not only will you stay out but you will speak of it to nobody. Should you not follow my advice, then… your fate will be the same as Ms. Everdeen's."

I frown, not quite understanding what he's talking about.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm afraid I don't comprehend."

"You're a very appealing young man. Everybody loves you," he smiles nastily.

I merely stare at him until something in my brain clicks, piecing two and two together.

"You don't mean—"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Mellark. You'll be surprised at how many women _and_ men would love to get their hands on you," Snow tells me shrewdly.

"Is that your brilliant solution, sir? Forcing me into prostitution?"

To my surprise, Snow laughs.

"You've got a fire in you. It's not as obvious as Ms. Everdeen's but it's there. You sure would be popular with the crowd. Even more popular, I daresay," he says, staring at me contemplatively.

I try my best to remain in the chair, glaring at the man sitting before me.

"But if you give me no reason to, then you will continue to live as you have so far. I imagine your house in Victor's Village is much larger than your house over the bakery?"

"Yes, sir. My home in Victor's Village is everything anybody could ask for," I answer through clenched teeth.

"Very good, I'm pleased to hear it. I suppose the money you'll receive every month for the rest of your life isn't so bad either, is it?"

"Not at all, sir."

"Jolly good. Well, that is all, Mr. Mellark. I'm afraid I must travel for the next couple of days, but make sure to enjoy your stay here," he smiles, showing off his unbelievably white teeth at me. "My home is your home."

"Thank you, sir. Enjoy your travels," I tell him stiffly, standing up and starting to walk away.

"Mr. Mellark?"

I turn around instinctively, as if jerked by strings with Snow being the puppeteer.

"Be careful not to get too close to her. She's a heartbreaker," he smiles cruelly at me.

I nod quickly and walk out, feeling his eyes stare into the back of my head; believe me, it's more uncomfortable as it sounds.

Once outside Snow's office, I heave a sigh of relief. I close my eyes and rub my forehead, still trying to wrap my head around the conversation we just had and Snow's threat.

_I better go to my room and stay there. It wouldn't be good to see Katniss or Haymitch, especially with him around. Even when he's gone I'm sure he'll be informed of everything that goes around here. There is just no winning with you, is there, Snow?_

-x-

Without his knowing, I've been waiting for him to leave. As soon he walks away, I stride into the President's office with a determined look on my face.

"What did you say to him?" I demand, gripping the back of the chair tightly.

President Snow looks up from the paper he was about to sign and smiles lazily at me.

"Well, good afternoon to you too, Ms. Everdeen. As always, it's such a pleasure to see you."

"What did you say to him?" I repeat, having little interest in manners at the moment.

The man leans back and licks his puffy lips, watching me attentively.

"I merely asked him to stay out of my personal businesses," he shrugs.

I let out a sigh of relief, closing my eyes for a moment to savor his safety.

"He, unlike you, knows his place. I appreciate that very much."

I open my eyes and glare at him, twisting my features with deep dislike.

"I don't particularly care _what_ you appreciate, President," I spit out to him.

Snow's stark white eyebrows rise onto his forehead, staring at me with his snake-like eyes.

"You better watch your tongue, young lady," he clucks softly, a threat lurking beneath his words.

I clench my jaw, knowing I'm in enough trouble as it is; I don't need to be in any deeper with this man.

"Mr. Mellark, what a bright, _virtuous_ handsome young man, don't you think?"

I nod stiffly, gripping the back of the chair so tightly my knuckles turn white.

"It would be a complete shame if something were to strip that morality, don't you agree, Ms. Everdeen?" he asks me softly, enjoying the way I wince. "And what a way with words he has. Wouldn't it be terrible if something were to happen to his voice? If he were left silent and powerless?"

My blood grows cold as I recognize the meaning behind his words.

_He's threatening to turn Peeta into an Avox._

"It would be the utmost shame, sir," I mutter sincerely, clasping my hands tightly to keep them from shaking.

He assesses me silently, pressing his fingertips together.

"Ms. Everdeen, I have decided that we are to wed."

My jaw drops open, staring at him as though he just grew a second head.

"E-excuse me?" I stammer, my body going cold.

"Like you heard, my dearest Ms. Everdeen. This was a subject that was much debated between my advisers and I but I'm glad to say that they ended up seeing things my way. You see, you are coveted by many and though few have had their way with you," he smiles unpleasantly. "You're still something of a rare jewel within the citizens of the Capitol and by extension, Panem. I need you firmly under my control and what better way than to marry you? I will tell Flickerman that I'm a lonesome old man and you're the young, bright and vivacious woman who captured my heart. They'll eat it up faster than a man eating his first meal after months of starvation."

"But you don't even like me," I whisper, feeling faint.

"I don't need to like you to marry you, Ms. Everdeen," he scoffs. "I merely need to control you. Something I thought I'd been doing until last night's… brawl."

I feel the blood drain from my face, so I take a seat in the very spot Peeta was probably sitting in just minutes before.

"This is my punishment," I whisper distractedly.

"Aren't you relieved that Mr. Mellark didn't take the brunt of your misbehavior, Ms. Everdeen?" he asks cheerfully.

"Yes. But it never occurred to me that you would ask me to marry you," I admit, looking down at my hands.

"You are mistaken. I'm not asking you to marry me; I'm forcing you to marry me. There's a difference."

"You don't even find me… desirable," I argue, hoping to change his mind.

He merely laughs, throwing his snowy head back.

"Oh, Ms. Everdeen, you sure are naïve. While I can see _why_ the men love and flock to you, I just don't find you attractive. You're far too small and dark for my taste," he shrugs indifferently.

Despite his offensive words, I can't help but feel comforted that he wouldn't dare try anything with me.

"I'll probably announce the engagement when I get back."

I just nod, losing my will to speak.

"But you're free to tell your group. I really couldn't care less."

"Thank you, sir," I answer awkwardly.

"You _should_ be thankful, Ms. Everdeen. It is not every day a woman will marry into riches. You will have everything you can possibly dream of and more," he tells me, straightening up in his chair.

"I seriously doubt that," I mutter, feeling disgusted.

"You will, of course, have your own room. Along with your own guard and your own attendants."

"Thank you," I repeat, mustering as much graciousness as I can into my tone.

"That's better. You will soon be a First Lady, Ms. Everdeen. It would be wise to polish up on your manners."

"I will start working on that immediately, sir," I nod automatically.

"I suppose you'll have to call me by my first name when talking to others. If you merely call me 'President Snow' they might start to suspect something is awry."

I nod once more, wanting nothing more than to leave this forsaken place and to be back in my woods.

"If that's all…" I say, standing up quickly.

"Wait. I forgot one thing."

"What is it, Coriolanus?"

He gives me a startled look and it's so different from the usual smug expression on his face that I try my best to hold my laughter back.

"Just practicing," I tell him innocently, giving my shoulder a shrug.

"You'll sing."

I blink in confusion, staring at the man in bewilderment.

"Your wedding vows, Ms. Everdeen. You'll sing them," he tells me with a malicious smile.

"But, sir… I—"

"No excuses, Ms. Everdeen. I've already made up my mind."

I just stare at him, knowing he must have paid attention to me singing to Rue. Not only that, but of my fierce determination to keep my singing hidden from Panem. But now he knows and not only is he going to make me sing, he's going to make me sing in front of the whole country.

"One more thing before you go, Ms. Everdeen…" he says, rifling through his desk for something.

He finally sets a black velvet box on his desk, pushing it towards me with a finger.

"Your engagement ring. I trust you will like it," he leers.

I reach over and hesitantly grab it, the box feeling heavy as lead. I merely hold it in my hand, staring at Snow.

"Thank you, sir."

"Aren't you even the tiniest bit curious?" he asks with a malignant sparkle in his eye.

I sigh inwardly and slowly open the box, looking down at the giant shining rock nestled in the white satin. My mouth falls open, my heart accelerating with surprise.

"Just a little token of my affection, my dearest," he tells me, something dark hiding in his tone.

I stare down at the gleaming ring, unable to believe my eyes. A giant diamond rests at the center with smaller diamonds surrounding it, like rose petals. I bring the ring closer to my face and see that I'm mistaken; the petals are merely encrusted with hundreds of tiny diamonds. I swallow heavily and look at Snow, who's watching me with genuine interest.

"Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful, thank you. It could not be bestowed upon a more grateful woman."

Snow smirks and nods his white head.

"You may go now, Ms. Everdeen."

I shut the box and hold it tightly in my hand. I turn away from him and start to make my way out of his office, feeling lightheaded.

"By the way, Ms. Everdeen. It would be wise to be on your best behavior while I'm gone. As you're well aware, I have eyes and ears everywhere," he speaks to my back.

I turn my face nod quickly, feeling desperate to get out of this damned place, which reeks of roses.

"How I'll miss you, my future bride," he laughs sadistically.

With that, I practically bolt out of there and all the way to my room.

_My life is doomed. It's practically over if I have to marry that vile man. At least Peeta didn't get hurt. Oh, Peeta… I'm so sorry. I'm so, terribly sorry. What a disaster this is turning out to be. But I do suppose it's for the best. What kind of life will I lead by his side? Sure, I'll be rich beyond imagination… but at what price? I'll be giving up what little freedom I have. I'll be giving up Peeta's companionship. No, that's not quite right. I'm being __**forced**__ to give those things up. Because as screwed up as my life is right now, I much prefer living like this than being shackled to that horrendous man for the rest of my life. Of course, I've never had much of a choice since volunteering for Prim. Not that I regret it, not one bit. But that only afforded her protection for a few precious months. If only I hadn't been so stupid… maybe they'd be here with me now. What's done is done, Everdeen. There's no use wallowing in 'could-have-been' and 'I wish.' I've got to face the consequences now. The dire consequences of my careless actions._

I arrive to my room, breathless and lock the door behind me. I throw the velvet box at the wall with impressive force, not caring if it gets damaged. It feels like my knees are about to give out so I fall to them, tears falling freely from my eyes. I crawl to a chair, resting my head over my folded arms and sob into the fine upholstery for the atrocious turn my life has taken.

_Never think life couldn't get any worse. Because it's a statement that could come back and bite you in the ass._

* * *

Womp womp womp. :(

I appreciate reviews. ;)

See you on Monday, darlings.


	7. Chapter 7

Hello everybody! As always, thanks for following and for adding the story to your favorites. I appreciate it very much. :)

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, I sit across from Haymitch, glancing every few minutes at the doorway and hoping that Katniss appears soon. Just as soon as I dip a roll of bread into hot chocolate, she appears and takes a seat next to Haymitch. He grunts at her in greeting but she remains quiet, staring at the spread of food before us though not quite seeing it. She has a blank expression on her face and while I'd normally think nothing of it, the fact that her lips are pursed ever so slightly give me pause. I look up into her eyes and see the tumultuous storm brewing there; it's like she's mad, but she's also nervous and... sad?

_Is she really sad or am I just really terrible at reading her? A blank expression, I've learned, is the norm for her. Angry and confused I can certainly understand. But sad? Something's not quite right here._

It's like she can feel my eyes on her because her eyes flicker onto mine for a moment, receiving a jolt of electricity direct to my heart. Not even a second later her eyes skitter away and I'm left feeling both anxious and mystified. I decide that I'm just overreacting. After all, didn't Haymitch advice me not to look at her for too long or talk to her? It's highly plausible that he told her the same. I feel my shoulders relax slightly and throw a quick look her way before continuing to eat breakfast.

She's impeccably dressed in a deep eggplant velvet dress with a gold paisley print. There's a panel of eggplant satin pleats on the bodice of her dress with little ruffles trimming the square neckline. Her hair is parted in the middle, the two front sections of her hair pinned back. The rest of it cascades down her back, shining curls that brush against her lower back. Decorating her earlobes are a pair of gold drop earrings with smoky amethysts that match her dress.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Haymitch drawls, buttering a piece of toast.

Katniss makes a soft noise at the back of throat, clearly avoiding eye contact with everybody.

I try not to look her way but fail miserably, feeling a strange need for her to look at me.

_Something doesn't feel quite right. What's going on, Katniss?_

I turn to look at Haymitch and see him glaring at me. I can practically read his thoughts to stop staring at her or to at least make it less obvious. I grin at him in response but he just rolls his eyes at me and goes back to picking apart the muffin that sits on his plate.

"Sleep well, Katniss?" Effie asks, taking a sip of coffee.

"Not particularly," she mutters, reaching out for a roll.

"Tsk tsk. What a shame. I have some pills that could help, if you're interested," she tells her, looking at Katniss over the top of her teacup. "Though I don't see how one couldn't sleep here. The bed makes you feel like you're sleeping on a cloud! Not to mention that there's attendants waiting on you hand and foot. Of course, I didn't expect less."

"Thanks," she murmurs noncommittally, taking a careful drink of her hot chocolate.

Haymitch watches her with narrowed eyes and I'm glad I'm not the only that noticed Katniss' odd behavior. I mean, it's rare even for her to be so quiet and withdrawn. I watch as Haymitch turns to her, undoubtedly ready to give her a good ribbing but something seems to catch his eye because they fall to her lap and even does a double take, eyes widening dramatically. I continue to watch him curiously, wondering what gauged such reaction.

"Katniss…"

_It's rare that he calls us by our names. Something is definitely wrong._

She turns to him and sees that he's staring down at her lap, mouth hanging open. Katniss opens her mouth to speak but closes it as an afterthought. She swallows nervously and glances around the table, noticing that everybody's staring at her inquisitively. She finally turns to look at me, her eyes looking darker and smokier, probably because of the color of her dress. I watch as her eyes become strangely glassy and raise my eyebrows at her, as if to ask what's going on. She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment before slowly pulling her left hand into view.

_I don't... understand. Did she cut herself? Is she holding something?_

She finally holds her hand stiffly in front of her and I'm about to ask her what she's doing when a glint catches my eye. I lower my eyes to her hand, eyes widening as my mind struggles to grasp what I'm looking at. Resting on her ring finger is a hefty diamond, surrounded by what looks like flower petals.

"What is that?" I demand through numb lips.

"What is what?" Effie asks distractedly, patting the corner of her mouth daintily with a napkin.

"That big ol' sparkler on her finger," Haymitch says, staring at Katniss intently.

She, in turns, seems to be avoiding looking at him. Her eyes are zeroed in on me, a mixture of emotions swimming in them.

"Haymitch, what _are_ you going on about? What sparkler?" she frowns, turning to look at him.

But before her eyes can glare at Haymitch, they lock on the sparkling ring on Katniss' finger. Her mouth drops and her eyes widen just as Haymitch's and she turns to stare at Katniss.

"Katniss! Oh, my! That's beautiful," she squeals, fanning herself with a glove-covered hand.

The corners of Katniss' lips curve up slightly and looks away from me to watch how Effie takes her hand to inspect the ring.

"I didn't know you had any suitors! My, oh, my! It looks extremely expensive," she gapes.

"President Snow, I mean… _Coriolanus_, proposed to me. Needless to say, I said yes," she answers primly.

My jaw hangs open as I stare at her in astonishment.

"He did what?" Haymitch gasps, looking outright shaken.

"He proposed to me, Haymitch. How much clearer can I make it?" she snaps.

"I wasn't aware that the President…" Effie trails off, looking at Katniss with newfound awe.

"Neither did I, Effie. It came as a complete surprise to me as well," she tells her, who looks misty-eyed at the sudden romanticism of it all.

"Congratulations, darling. I'll get started on your dress as soon as possible. Oh, you'll be on fire alright," Cinna smiles, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Katniss gives him a weak smile and they continue to look at each other, communicating silently.

Portia offers her congratulations as well but soon I feel her hazel eyes watch me. Truthfully, it feels as if I've gone into shock. All I can do is stare at the ring in her hand while my brain attempts to process the reasons why Katniss would accept. The room feels like it's shifting all around me, so I hold on tightly to the edge of the chair.

"This is not the time or place, boy…" Haymitch whispers, shaking his head roughly at me.

_President Snow proposed to Katniss and even worse… she accepted. Why would she accept? As far as I know, she detests the man. He's the one who forced her into prostitution after murdering her mother and sister. What is she playing at? _

"No," I burst out loud, standing up in one swift move.

Everybody turns to look at me, looking politely puzzled at my outburst. I ignore their stares and keep my own eyes locked on Katniss. She's looking back at me, a tiny line creasing her forehead. I shake my head at her before throwing down the napkin on my plate and striding away before the accusations have time to fly from my mouth.

_No, this can't be right. This simply isn't true. Why would she accept? Did he threaten her into it? Why else would she have agreed? That's it… that must be it. He blackmailed her into accepting his proposal. I honestly doubt he got down on one knee and asked her to marry him. No, Snow plans. Just like he told me… but when did she see him? Could it have happened after he spoke to me? But I should have seen her going into his office! This is madness. I can't let her marry that man. I must do something… but what? How can I save Katniss from a loveless marriage with that monster who calls himself a man?_

I kick a stray pebble out of my way as I pace around the President's lush garden.

"Peeta?"

Her voice shakes me from my reverie and don't hesitate to turn around immediately.

"Katniss… surely you can't be serious," I sigh, taking a step towards her.

She stares at me with her hands clasped methodically before her, as if to show off her ring.

"I'm very serious, Peeta," she answers, taking a step back in turn.

I can only stare at her with bewilderment.

"You're okay with this?" I whisper disbelievingly.

"More than okay. I'm actually looking forward to marrying Coriolanus," she tells me with a shrug of her shoulder.

"But Katniss, he's a—"

"Coriolanus is a very misunderstood man. He simply wants what's best for his people," she answers uneasily, brushing her fingers against her skirt.

"Are you really defending him? Can you defend how he forced you to have sex with strangers?"

"If I hadn't defied him, then maybe my life would have turned out differently."

I let out a sharp laugh, unable to believe that the person I'm hearing is Katniss.

"You're blaming yourself. I can't believe it. This is absolutely ridiculous. Katniss, please come to your senses. You can't possibly live happily with him for the rest of your life," I tell her urgently.

"I can and I will. He offered me protection, Peeta. More than that, he insinuated that he can offer the rest of my _family_ protection. You know, the Hawthornes," she says, raising her eyebrows significantly.

"But you _are_ safe, Katniss."

"I am not, Peeta. I may seem safe to you, but what happened that other night... it could as easily happen again. You won't always be there to... defend me. Nor would I want to nor am I asking you to. I'm not some damsel in distress that you can just... save. As a result, he also promised he would stop… well, that I won't be a prostitute anymore. That's something I'm definitely looking forward to. I can't tell you just _how_ exhausting it is, playing nice and coy and being passed around like some kind of toy," she says quietly, looking as though a burden has been lifted from her shoulders. "So not only will I be under his protection, but his riches will also be mine."

"Katniss, you've never struck me as the type of woman who thinks money is the most important thing in the world. Sure, with the victor money we receive we'll be able to live comfortably for the rest of our lives… but I'd think that would be enough," I frown, not wanting to to see her in a brand new light but starting to.

"That's where you're wrong, Peeta. For a long time in my childhood and adolescence, we had none. But now that I've been offered a comfortable position… I'm not going to turn it down. I'd be a fool if I had."

"I'm seeing and hearing it, but I can't quite bring myself to believe it," I say, shaking my head at her.

"It's not always fairy tales and happy endings, Peeta. This is real life," she tells me grimly.

"I'm aware of that, Katniss, thank you," I tell her curtly.

"I'm sorry. But it's for the best."

"_I'm _sorry, but it's not for the best," I say stubbornly.

"Maybe not for you," she says simply.

"I thought you cared for me," I whisper suddenly, an embarrassing yearning laced in my voice.

She swallows visibly and looks away from me, reaching out to brush her fingers on a white rose.

"Once again, you thought wrong. I was simply…" she sighs, looking strained for a moment. "I was simply attached to you because you're the only other person from home. But other than that, you hold no _real_ meaning to me."

My expression falls while everything before me has become blurry; I can feel the hot tears in my eyes but I will myself not to shed them.

"You're simply an idea that I'd foolishly held on to."

I look down, feeling stung; as though my heart is hanging on a very thread.

"But now that I'll marry Coriolanus, I'll be moving here, of course. I probably won't be a mentor for the next Games and I've never been so relieved for that. I'll never have to face innocent children and get them ready for slaughter…" she breathes heavily, looking perturbed.

"No, now you'll just be one more person who supports the Games."

"You don't know what it's like, Peeta. You don't understand. But you will, soon. And while you may not agree with me now, you'll eventually comprehend my relief."

"I doubt I'll ever be able to commiserate with you, Katniss. Not ever."

"It's not my fault you've built me up into something I'm not," she glares at me.

A feeling of tightness grips my already shattered heart.

"I guess my love for you has merely been an illusion too," I tell her bitterly.

Her mouth opens slightly at my remark and stares at me. For a moment, I have a wild hope in my heart that she's behaving like this to push me away. Her lips quiver slightly and watch in strange fascination how tears gather in her lower lashes. But all too soon, she straightens her posture and looks away haughtily, whatever vulnerability she had shown seconds before now gone.

"What a shame," she tells me in a bored tone.

"Who are you? What have you done to Katniss?" I whisper, clenching my hands into fists.

"I'm the future First Lady of Panem, soon to be Katniss Snow. If you don't like it, then it's not my problem. It's yours," she hisses, narrowing her eyes at me.

I take a step back, my legs feeling like wood. The coldness is starting to reach my core and I fear what'll happen the moment it does.

"Katniss, please be reasonable. You would never, _ever_ willingly marry that man. What did he do? Did he threaten you? I can help you but you _need_ to let me in," I plead to her in a low voice, not quite willing to lose her yet.

Katniss' dark eyebrows rise with my words. She finally gives her head a small shake and starts to laugh unkindly.

"Oh, how _precious_! You're trying to save me. Again. Aww, Peeta. If your offer wasn't so ridiculous, then maybe I could take it seriously," she answers, smirking. "There's no need to save me. I've never needed a savior, Peeta. But thank you, it means a lot."

"You… you… you're vile," I tell her unthinkingly, looking at her with disgust.

Something shines in her eyes for a second but her expression falls slightly and shrugs her shoulders wearily.

"I've always been. You've just been too much a fool to see it," she tells me softly, looking away.

"I see it now. How wrong I was about you, Katniss. To think I loved you… that I even pitched in to sponsor you! Granted, it wasn't much but… I liked to think it helped you survive. It was all a mistake," I whisper indignantly.

I've clearly stumped her because her imperious demeanor falls at my confession.

"You… you helped sponsor me?" she asks meekly, clearly taken off guard.

"Yes."

"I… don't know what to say," she says quietly.

"I don't think speaking has ever been your forte, anyway. So save your words, Katniss. I want nothing from you. The day I leave this place won't come soon enough for me," I mutter, glaring at my surroundings.

Her forehead crinkles with concern and confusion, but keeps quiet. I turn around and start to make my way back to the mansion. But I stop suddenly, as if struck by an idea.

"Don't worry, Katniss. I'll make sure to stay out of your way. I don't want to witness any more defamation to the woman I thought I loved," I tell her, not bothering to turn around to face her. "You two definitely deserve each other."

I walk past Effie, Portia and Cinna, not even bothering to wipe the angry expression on my face. I notice they all go quiet when I pass by them but they don't call for me or ask me to stay. I stalk up to my room, feeling a strange sort of vindictiveness when I slam the door loudly behind me and lock it. I huff loudly, running my fingers through my hair in agitation.

_I can't believe it. I just can't believe it. Of all the people in the world… why Katniss? I thought she was better than this… boy, was I wrong. What angered me the most is her trying to excuse that man! There is no justification for him sending innocent children to be murdered, all in the name of making an example to keep the districts in line. _

It's childish, but I knock a lamp down and feel grim pleasure as I watch it shatter onto the carpet. I take my coat off and throw it on the floor, glaring down at the unobtrusive garment.

_Yeah, let his attendants take care of that. Not like their children will ever be sent for massacre so a few cuts here and there will certainly be nothing to them._

I pace around the room, feeling my thoughts spin more and more out of control until I finally make myself sit down.

_I thought you were better than that, Katniss… why? Did his power and riches really woo you? Did the thought of becoming the First Lady entice you further? I can't believe it… yet the proof is on your ring finger._

A sudden knock on my door tears me from my thoughts. I turn toward it, scowling at the person who dares intrude.

"Boy, let me in," Haymitch tells me gruffly, making sure to keep his voice low.

"I don't want to see anybody."

"Kid, I assure you, you want to see me."

"Haymitch, go away!"

"Teenagers," he mumbles. "Fine, I'll just wait out here to ambush you."

I let out a heavy sigh and stand up, muttering unkind words about my mentor under my breath. I swing the door open, glaring at him and feel satisfaction when I see his grin slide off his face. He glances around the room, his eyes traveling to the broken lamp and to the clothes I threw on the floor in my haze. I move out of the doorway and stomp into the room once more. I listen as Haymitch closes the door behind him, locking it just in case.

"Kid, calm down."

"I'm not a child, Haymitch!" I snap at him.

"Fine, you're not a child. But you sure are acting like one," he observes, crossing his arms.

I turn around and narrow my eyes at him.

"Aren't you supposed to be getting drunk somewhere? Preferably alone in your room?"

"Ouch, that stings, kid," he tells me with a roll of his eyes.

"Haymitch, seriously. What do you want? As you can see, I'm not in the best of moods," I say sharply.

"Let me guess… the girl caused this."

My scowl answers everything he needs to know.

"I wish I could be as indifferent to her as you are. 'The girl' has never sounded so appealing in my life," I mutter resentfully.

"I'm not indifferent to her. I just love her my own way," he shrugs. "She knows it well too."

"Well, good for you Haymitch."

"Kid, you need to take that attitude down a notch or two. I came here to help, in case you haven't noticed."

I remain silent, merely glaring at Haymitch.

"That's better. So…" he starts but stops himself short.

He looks around the bedroom suspiciously, as if aware that we're being monitored. So he goes into the bathroom and turns the shower on to its highest setting, to block out any sound. He beckons me to come inside and closes the door behind us once we're in.

"You never know who's listening," he murmurs nervously.

"It didn't occur to me to do this," I admit, glancing at the closed door.

"So… she's _engaged_. You really believe that she accepted happily?"

"That's not my problem, Haymitch. Katniss is a big girl."

"Don't let your emotions get in the way, Peeta! They'll just obscure you from seeing the big picture," he urges me.

I sigh exaggeratedly before turning to look at Haymitch once more.

"I've been obscured enough, Haymitch. I should have known better than to…" I trail off angrily.

"Stop right there. Don't you find it a _little_ suspicious that she's engaged a day after Snow calls you into his office?"

I close my mouth, the retort I had ready dying on my lips.

"I honestly didn't think of that," I admit, embarrassment flooding my face.

"I can only imagine how he threatened _you_. If she barged into his office after you left, I don't think Snow appreciated that very much. So, in order to assert his dominance, he forces her to marry him. If she doesn't, he kills you," Haymitch speaks quietly.

I listen attentively, my anger and heartbreak slowly starting to fade away. Still, something in my chest throbs at Haymitch's words.

"He didn't threaten to kill me. On the contrary, he threatened to pimp me out like Katniss," I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck tensely.

"Yes, but it's obvious that he wouldn't tell _her_ that, now would he?"

"But why would she behave so… unlike herself?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, boy. But I think she's doing it to protect you."

I scoff and look away, hardly daring to believe his words.

"She doesn't care about me, she said so herself. She only put up with me because I remind her of home."

"You're a smart kid. But did you _really_ believe that? We all know that the girl's a terrible liar," Haymitch snorts, giving his head a quick shake.

"It sounded and felt real to me," I grumble uncertainly, crossing my arms.

"Of course it would! She's trying to keep you safe! If she doesn't then…"

"Then what, Haymitch? Snow pimps me out? He kills me?"

"She would never forgive herself, kid," he tells me somberly. "If something were to happen to you, she would blame herself until the day she dies."

I feel taken aback, unsure of what to believe.

_Katniss' behavior certainly felt__ real, but Haymitch makes an excellent point. Doesn't he usually, anyway?_

"I know you're confused. But just… try to keep an eye on her. You'll see for yourself that this isn't easy on her either. She cares for you, I _know_ it. So to keep you safe, she pushes you away. It makes perfect sense. Wouldn't you do the same for her?"

Upon Haymitch's question, I feel stumped.

"I would, but I wouldn't push her away. I'd try to explain to her what would be for the best…"

"Since when has the girl ever explained anything?" Haymitch sighs, chuckling despite the awful situation.

"You're right, Haymitch. I don't know… this is all too much," I sigh wearily. "I just want to go home and paint."

"We'll be there soon enough, kid. We'll be there soon enough."

"But not before the announcement of their engagement, I bet," I grimace sourly.

"It has to be done. I bet you nobody's dreading it more than the girl. You know how she hates being the center of attention."

"Well, you've certainly given me enough to think about. Thanks Haymitch. Sorry about my rude words to you earlier. I was just—"

"Don't worry about it, kid," he says, clapping his hand on my shoulder. "But the next time you get cheeky with me, you'll be my drinking partner."

I groan, never having been one for alcohol. I see what it does to Haymitch and although it wasn't precisely his choice to start drinking, it's still a dreadful and addicting habit that's hard to kick.

"I'll be going now, before _someone_ notices my absence."

"Okay, see you at lunch," I nod absently, standing up as well.

I turn the shower off and head back into the bedroom, picking up the chair I'd knocked over and sit down.

_What if Haymitch is right? Is Katniss doing all this to keep me safe? I'm so confused. God, I can't believe I said those dreadful things to her. How did I manage to confess to her that I love her and then take it back in the same breath? How did I even dare say that she and Snow deserve each other? Am I not in love with her? What possessed me to judge her so harshly? _

I look around the messy room and feel guilt gnaw in the pit of my stomach. I pick up the clothes I'd thrown on the floor, making sure to hang them neatly in the large closet. Next I pick up the pieces of the broken lamp carefully, making sure not to cut myself although I would rightfully deserve it if I did.

_Katniss is right about one thing, though. I __**am**__ a fool. Just when I think that things could be okay between us, a bomb is dropped. It feels like this will never end. Oh, Katniss… what's going on in that head of yours? Why can't you just let me in? Don't you see how much I love you? Are you really doing this to protect me? But can't you see that I'm just fine? You're the one that keeps getting in deeper and deeper. I'm well aware that you don't need a savior and that you're no damsel in distress, but I can't help it if my first instinct is to help you. If my death or being sold meant your safety, then I'd be all for it. Why must you be so stubborn? While your tenacity is something I admire, it's keeping you from letting the people who love you help you._

* * *

Things just keep going from bad to worse for Peeta, huh? :\

Thanks for reading! See you all on Friday. :)


	8. Chapter 8

Hey gang! Sorry for the late update; I've been feeling under the weather for the past week and I'm starting to feel human once more. I hope everybody has a great weekend. :)

Disclaimer: I own nada.

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The rest of the week passes inconsequentially, painfully and all too slowly due to Katniss keeping her distance from me. It hurts even though I (pessimistically) think to myself that should be used to it by now. However, I still do as Haymitch had suggested to me. Watching her proofs to be all sorts of devastating; there times when I'd turn to see Katniss look away from me in the nick of time, like she's afraid of getting caught. It felt like my heart would burst out of my chest only to have it sink back down to my stomach.

On the morning of the last day of our stay, President Snow's due to arrive back at the mansion. There's an interview with Caesar Flickerman scheduled in the afternoon, one where Katniss is going to make a surprise appearance.

Haymitch and I are waiting outside of Katniss' door, listening to Effie prattle advice to her.

"Effie, please! I know you mean well but it's not like this is my first interview," she snaps tensely.

"I'm well aware of that, Katniss. But this is _the_ interview. You will be the future First Lady and you need to give it 100% percent! I'm sorry if I'm just trying to help you not make a fool out of yourself," she sniffs.

We hear Katniss sigh loudly before apologizing to Effie.

"I understand that you're under great stress, Katniss," Effie tells her simply.

"That's not good," Haymitch murmurs to Peeta.

I cock my head slightly, wondering what's taking so long. I mean, there's only so much makeup they can put on Katniss, smooth out the wrinkles of her dress and so many manners they can knock into her, right?

"What _are_ they doing to her, Haymitch? Not only is Cinna there, but Portia is helping as well. _And_ Effie is coaching her," I sigh, staring at the door impatiently.

The process feels so much like the one before our interviews that for a moment sheer horror seizes my heart.

_They're prepping her to through her into the arena! No, no... calm down Peeta. She's not going into the arena... but they might as well be getting her ready for her demise._

"Effie made a good point, kid. Not only is she going to appear all over Panem, but she's going to be announced as the President's betrothed. It's a big deal," he shrugs, looking bored.

His cool exterior won't fool me, though. He keeps fidgeting with his pocket watch and I know that he's just as worried as I am.

"At least we're going home tonight," I say, resting the back of my head against the wall.

"Thank Daniels for small miracles," Haymitch mutters wearily.

The door finally opens and out comes Effie, looking strained and slightly frazzled. At our inquiring looks, she gives us a tiny smile.

"She did the best she could. She's nervous, I'm sure she'll do great," she answers shortly before stepping out of the way.

Cinna and Portia appear next, looking tired but extremely satisfied. Lastly Katniss appears, looking tense, frustrated and heart-achingly beautiful.

"My goodness, sweetheart. You look good," Haymitch compliments her, sounding surprised for himself.

Katniss looks up from the floor and glares at him.

"Well, you do," he shrugs, smirking at her. "But you gotta learn to take a compliment."

Katniss wears a long sleeved taffeta baby blue dress with a gold brocade overskirt. The bodice of her dress matches the overskirt and there's tiny blue buttons lining the front. Gold lace trims the wrists and there's lustrous cream-colored fur lining the dress's collar and sweeping train. Her dark hair is swept up in an elaborate braided updo and has sparkling diamond icicle earrings dangling from her earlobes. Her makeup is subtle but her rosy cheeks are the most prominent, followed by her doe-like eyes.

"You look like a snow queen," I tell her quietly, unable to take my eyes off her.

"That was the point, I think," she replies, avoiding my gaze.

"It was," Cinna assures us with an uneasy smile.

"Very clever on your part," Effie smiles, nodding admiringly at Katniss' attire.

"How do you feel, sweetheart?"

"Like I'm about to throw up," she whispers, looking startlingly pale.

"Katniss," Effie reprimands, though there's no heat in her words.

"Breathe in, breathe out. Relax, Katniss. You'll be your charming self," Cinna speaks to her soothingly, pressing his hand on her shoulder.

I feel a strange bout of jealousy as I watch Cinna reassure her. I want nothing more than to help her through this, but I know that she would just end up brushing me off, all in the name of keeping up appearances.

She nods rapidly, taking deep breaths through her nose.

"Cinna's right, sweetheart. Despite your sullen personality, you just seem to shine in front of the cameras."

Here Katniss glares daggers at Haymitch but he just smirks back at her.

"Oh, it's almost time. Come on, Katniss. Are all of you coming as well?"

"I'm not, Effie," I speak up, forcing an apologetic look on my face.

They all look at me in surprise, Katniss included.

"Oh? Is everything all right, Peeta? Are you feeling unwell?" Effie asks worriedly.

"I'm afraid not, Effie."

"Oh, no. What's wrong?" she frets, looking at me up and down.

_Just a little heartache. _

"I think I ate too much," I groan, pressing a hand against my flat stomach.

"I'm sure some warm tea will help you feel better," she suggests in a motherly voice.

"Thank you, Effie. I'm sure it will. Katniss… good luck," I say to her, meeting her eyes for a moment before turning away.

Her expression is so bemused that I want nothing more than to sweep her into my arms for a reassuring hug. Instead, I force out a smile at her before walking off.

_I refuse to watch her profess "love" to that man. What am I going to do on the day of her wedding day short of stealing her away? **If** she's even willing to run, that is. Of course, I know there would be major repercussions for us if Snow found us… I'm sure we'd be dead soon after. Unless he takes pity on us, but I honestly doubt he'd be so kind. This is the man who's punishing Katniss by the form of marrying her._

I enter the bedroom Snow assigned for me, feeling that the circular room has become a prison cell of sorts these last couple of days. I can't even begin to imagine how Katniss is going to do it, living here for the rest of her life. I look up at the dome ceiling; it's so low that it makes me feel slightly nauseated and immediately look down, taking labored breaths through my nose. Once I manage to get over my mild claustrophobia, I sit down at the edge of the bed, restlessness coursing through my body.

I try not to think of all the fake smiles and touches that'll occur between Katniss and Snow but the thought of it just keeps running obtrusively through my head that it manages to upset my stomach.

_Maybe warm tea would help. No, no... I don't want anything else from this place._

Seconds turn to minutes and soon turn to what feels like hours. Finally Effie comes to the door, making me jump when she knocks firmly.

"Peeta, it's time to go. I trust you have your things ready. The rest have already left for the train. It's only you, Haymitch and me," she calls through the door.

"Yes, I'm ready. Coming, Effie," I call back, grabbing the giant suitcase I packed in my restlessness and wheeling it behind me.

She smiles once I open the door and motions with her hands to 'hurry up.' I seriously doubt that the train would leave without us but I walk as fast as I can, the wheels of the suitcase often catching in the extravagant carpeting that covers the floor. Once we reach the foyer, I receive the surprise of my life: there standing next to Haymitch is none other than Snow himself.

"Mr. Mellark, how good to see you. It was an immense pleasure having you here, thank you so much for accepting my offer," he tells me genially.

_Not so much as 'accepting' than being coerced to, Snow._

"It was my pleasure, sir. You have a beautiful home," I smile brilliantly, playing his game.

Snow nods amiably and smiles back at me.

"You're welcome to stay again soon. But I'm sure you're anxious to go back home to Victor's Village in District 12. Realistically, the next time you'll be staying here will be for the wedding," he grins at me. "A shame you couldn't watch our interview, Katniss was absolutely intoxicating. I trust you are feeling well now?"

_How terrifying. Skin is __**not**__ supposed to stretch like that. It looks so brittle that if he smiled anymore it might peel off his face._

"That's right, sir. I haven't offered you my congratulations. You certainly are a lucky man. Katniss is a very special woman. I wish you two the best," I nod, forcing my tone to sound light. "Thank you for asking, I'm indeed feeling better now."

_Better now that I'm about to go home._

Snow laughs, the cold sound chilling me to the bone.

"Thank you, young man. I certainly _am_ lucky," he beams. "Good, good... it's troublesome to think one of my victors felt ill in my home. I trust you know that all of my staff are at your disposal, Mr. Mellark. Like an adage from before the Dark Days goes: mi casa es su casa."

"Sorry to interrupt, President Snow, but we really must be off," Effie tells him worriedly, glancing at the delicate watch on her wrist.

"My apologies Ms. Trinket. Have a safe trip," he tells us, clasping hands with Haymitch and then me.

I nod, feeling grateful for Effie's strict scheduling for once.

Once we walk out of the mansion and into the awaiting car, I feel as though a certain weight has been lifted off my shoulders. The feeling grows the farther we get from City Circle.

The three of us finally board the train and I receive yet another surprise: Katniss is sitting with Cinna and Portia at the dining table, still wearing her snow queen dress. I falter as I step into the train after Effie and Haymitch, unable to take my eyes off her. She looks even more resplendent and otherworldly in the dim lighting. She looks back at me with no discernible expression on her face but I find this a personal victory since she avoided any eye contact back at the mansion.

"Katniss. Fancy seeing you here," I tell her casually, clutching the handle of my suitcase tightly.

"You're not the only one who wants to go back home, Peeta," she replies, shrugging a shoulder.

I nod jerkily before excusing myself to wheel the suitcase to my room. There, I let out a huge sigh of relief and close my eyes, feeling deliciously weak for a moment.

_She's going back with us. That __**has**__ to be a good thing. She even called Victor's Village 'home.' I wonder if she found his mansion to be equally imprisoning as I did._

"Peeta, it's dinnertime!" Effie calls.

"Going!"

I take a deep breath and steady myself.

_It's just Katniss, she's not going to bite you._

I chuckle as a less than gentlemanly thought crosses my mind and exit the bedroom.

I take a seat next to Portia, who smiles at me once I turn to look at her. I can feel Katniss' silver eyes on me but refuse to look at her.

_Let her see how it feels to be ignored. See how she likes it. Not a very pleasant feeling is it, Katniss?_

"Peeta, how are you feeling?" Portia asks concernedly, pressing a hand on my arm.

"I'm better, thank you Portia. Nothing cold water and a nap couldn't fix," I chuckle, splaying a white napkin across my lap.

She smiles and gently squeezes my arm.

"I'm glad to hear it. You missed quite an interview," she tells me, turning to look at Cinna and Katniss.

An attendant serves us wine and I don't hesitate to grab a glass, drinking half of it in one go.

"Oh, is that so?" I murmur, avoiding looking at everybody.

"Oh, yes!" Effie squeals. "Katniss was absolutely effervescent and President Snow magnetic as usual."

I raise my eyebrows politely at her statement, making Haymitch guffaw loudly.

"Don't get me wrong, I don't doubt Katniss' _effervescence_. I'm not so sure about the President's magnetism. No offense," I add politely.

"That's understandable, Peeta. One look at President Snow and you would think he's merely an old man that's slowly succumbing to age. But once he opens his mouth to speak, oh, it's so hypnotizing," she sighs dreamily, taking a careful sip of wine.

"Trinket, you hot for the man?" Haymitch laughs, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively at her.

She lets out a groan of disgust and gives him a death glare as he smirks at her.

We're spared from an argument between the two because our food is then served. We all eat in silence, as if in a truce. The only sounds in the dining room come from our utensils clinking against the plates. Once everybody's finishes dessert, Katniss stands up and smiles graciously.

"Well, it's been a long day. Good night, everybody. See you when we arrive back home," she nods, wiping her mouth one last time with her napkin.

They all bid her goodnight save me although I am looking at her. Obviously.

"I guess it's okay that you didn't catch the interview, Peeta. I'm sure they'll be replaying it for a few more days," Effie nods, oblivious to the fact that her wig is crooked.

"That sounds so… convenient," I nod, clearing my throat uncomfortably.

Haymitch rolls his eyes and focuses his eyes on the clear liquid in his glass.

"Well, I'm off to bed as well. See you all tomorrow. Goodnight," I smile and walk back to my room.

I shrug off the navy suit jacket and neatly hang it on the back of a chair. I loosen my tie, not bothering to take it off as I look around the room.

_I never thought I'd miss sleeping here. At least I know I'm not under __**his**__ roof. But I'm sure that he's still watching us. A shower sounds good, nothing like letting water wipe away all the grime I've accumulated in the Capitol. Though, technically, the water from this shower is still Capitol water. Perhaps I should wait until I get home. Yeah, that sounds good. At least I know that the water there is purer than any from the Capitol._

I sit on the sofa near the window, watching the darkness blur before me. I look away not long after, feeling my eyes ache for trying to capture the passing details in the landscape. But now I turn to glance at the door, wondering whether everybody's finished eating and left for their room. I get up and walk as quietly as possible, listening intently.

Nothing.

I open the door, looking up and down the corridor but don't see nobody.

_Hmm… everybody must have gone to bed already. It's a little strange since they all like to linger after dinner and gossip. But I suppose everybody's tired from working so hard on Katniss today._

So I make my way as quietly as possible to the last compartment in the train, sighing with relief at its emptiness. Though I know there's no chance she could have been here, there was small hope in my heart that she would have been.

_I just wish she would talk to me. Even if she doesn't feel the same. It gets so lonely… I wonder how she coped when she became victor. Then again, I'm sure she prefers loneliness. I'm okay with being by myself when I bake or paint but other than that, I'm used to having people around me. It's funny how Katniss is the complete opposite. The less she's spoken to, the happier she is. I'm sure hunting is something she misses… I wonder how long it's been since she's gone out of the fence. But it's best that she doesn't. Should Snow get wind of it… it wouldn't end well for her._

I lean my elbow on the armrest, resting my chin on the hilt of the palm of my hand.

_She's right, of course. We're the only thing we have from back home. Not counting Haymitch, of course. But instead of pushing the other away, shouldn't it bring us closer together? Especially when we're so far away from District 12? I don't understand why she keeps me at an arm's length away. Could it be because she thinks I'm expecting her to feel something in return? I'd never do anything to make her feel uncomfortable nor would I force her to. Hmm… maybe that's it. I make her feel uncomfortable. I suppose I understand… a boy who's never spoken to you suddenly throws you bread in the rain without acknowledging your presence. Many years later, he becomes a victor and tries to make his way into your life. Yes, I certainly see how I might annoy her. I still don't understand __**why**__ she cares for me when I've done nothing but pester her._

I frown tiredly, curling a leg under my body and sighing. I feel my eyelids droop slowly and before I know it, the lull of the train rocks me to sleep.

-x-

Without his knowing, I appear, still wearing my interview dress. I want nothing more than to rip it off and possibly burn it, but I'm afraid that it might offend Cinna. I know how he slaved away for this dress, hoping that it would help the citizens of Panem embrace me further. I look down at the skirt and think how it really _is_ beautiful. A work of art, really. But this dress sealed my doom and a part of me can't quite help resent it for that.

I shake myself and watch Peeta closely, noticing that he's far too still. To my relief (and surprise), his eyes are closed. For a moment I panic but when I take a few steps closer I see his steady breathing and let out a sigh of relief.

I crouch down on my haunches quietly, observing him. His long and golden lashes cast a shadow under his eyes.

_Men aren't supposed to have nice eyelashes. But it seems like Peeta is anything but ordinary. They're long and curled and fair like his hair. His eyebrows too, come to think of it. It's funny how I've never really noticed them until now. I mean, they're not __**that **__blonde… but I guess there's more interesting parts of him for me to look at._

My eyes glance at his hair next. It's still parted to the side and slicked; though less so than it was this morning. Errant flaxen tendrils brush against his forehead and temple, captured between his large hand. I notice how his hair is starting to curl slightly at the nape of his neck and smile. A terrible curiosity suddenly stirs in my chest, growing stronger the longer I look at him.

_I wonder what his hair smells like. Without all that goop, I mean. I think it would smell like sunshine. It looks so thick and soft, how would it feel to run my fingers through it, I wonder? What would it be like to wrap my pinky in one of those curls?_

I blush at my own thoughts and shake my head, deciding it's time to move on from staring at his hair. My eyes fall on his lips and jaw next.

_No man should have lips that pink, but it works on him. Probably because he's so… so… boyish-looking. They're not overly small nor big, just right. I wonder how it'd feel…_

I swallow thickly and berate myself. I'm an _engaged_ woman, for crying out loud. I shouldn't be ogling men, let alone unsuspecting, sleeping ones. But I can't help myself, I'm naturally drawn to him. I smile once more as his mouth hangs open a tiny bit; I see a flash of pink tongue and straight, white teeth. I notice that his lower lip is slightly fuller than his top one when a naughty thought crosses my head.

_I wonder what it'd be like to bite it._

My face reddens, looking at his strong jaw line next to distract myself. It's so finely chiseled that I ridiculously think that it looks as if it's been carved out of the finest marble. Then I notice how it's stubble-free. Now that I'm this close, I think back to the first time I saw him.

_I've never seen him with a beard. Maybe they do the same thing to boys as they did to us girls, before the games. The hair removal process, I mean. I'm sure any whiskers he'd grow would be as fair as the rest of his hair, though. I like him better like this, clean-shaven. It just makes him look younger, more handsome._

Next, I notice the slight cleft in his chin and wonder what it would be like to press my finger against it.

_He has dimples in his cheeks when he smiles deeply, though. It's so adorable, it makes him look so… so… angelic._

My eyes travel down his throat and chest, remembering how fit he looked in the clothes he wore for the Games. My face reddens again as I recall his broad shoulders and firm butt.

_No, Peeta's always been fit. Probably thanks to lifting those hundred pound sacks of flour at the bakery. Plus the wrestling he did at school. He didn't place second in the championship for nothing. He has an overall good physique, let's just leave it at that._

My eyes roam to his eyes once more, thinking of their bright azure color. I remember how they seemed closer to indigo that night on the beach. I smile at the memory, feeling a nostalgic lightheartedness blossom in my chest.

_I've never been this close to him since that night. I wonder if he's noticed it. What are you thinking, Katniss? Of course he has. I wonder what he thinks of it. Maybe I should leave… but I can't bring myself to do so. Not yet, anyway. He looks so serene, so unaffected by all the bad crap going on in our lives. He deserves any tranquility he can get. He's __**so**__ remarkably, reliably good. _

I lean closer to him, holding my breath and feel all the blood rush to my face.

_I'm getting married to Snow for you, Peeta. So you can lead a moderately peaceful life. So you can get the chance to fall in love and get married._

My eyes water at the thought of him marrying some stranger.

_She better love you and treat you like you deserve to be. You deserve nothing but the best and I'll rest easy when you do. __**If**__ you do. I hope you do. You're the one that deserves love the most out of all of us._

My lips quiver and close my eyes, willing myself not to make a sound.

_Even if I never wanted to admit it, especially not to Gale or Madge, but I've kept an eye on you, ever since saving my life. Your bruises, tears and pain have been my own. Your victories and happiness have been mine as well. How was I so blind to you before? Your smile lights up a room and your laugh brings happiness to others. Your kindness endears you to others and your good looks make girls drop themselves at your feet. You've got everything going for you, Peeta. So why aren't you a narcissistic bastard? It would be **much** easier so dislike you then. I suppose you just got lucky that way. Not everybody can be the bad guy, especially not you. You, with your heart of gold, sympathetic smiles and kind, encouraging words. I know I never stood a chance with you, even if I'd realized just __**how**__ good you are. Me, a girl from the Seam interested in a boy from town. That would have been a riot._

I swallow thickly, allowing the tears that have welled up in my eyes to escape. I quickly wipe their trails and continue to watch Peeta.

_Even if it wasn't __**just**__ interest, there's nothing I can do about it now. I'm engaged to the most odious man and I'll live the rest of my life with him, both lamenting and praising the decision. I'll be like an exotic pet, caged up in a room with nobody to talk to. Of course, I know that I'll be more than a pet. I'll be his most prized trophy, the Girl on Fire turned First Lady. My fire will burn to embers and all that will be left of me is dust._

A couple more tears slip from my eyes and I lean away from Peeta.

_At least I'll be living in close proximity to you for a while. Not that I can do anything about it… Snow warned me not to get "too friendly" with you. Does he know something I don't? Is this just further punishment for letting you interfere with that horrible man? I'll never truly know even if I have my suspicions._

I stand up quietly, heart and mind at war.

_For you, and others, I'll sacrifice myself. So you can have a chance to live a life that is truly your own._

I lick my lips and before I have a chance to change my mind, lean down and brush them against his cheek, inhaling deeply. He smells like warmth, security and something else, something indescribable though a certain feeling nags at the back of my mind. I lightly brush his hair back, enjoying the feel of his silky hair against my fingers.

_Stop and walk away, Everdeen. Walk away before you're in too deep. Before you get emotionally invested. You fully well know you can't afford to do that._

I straighten up and watch him. He begins to stir so I take a step back, dreading leaving his side.

_I need to leave, __**now**__. I don't want him to open his eyes and see me standing here like a creep. So what am I waiting for? It's like my legs have turned to lead._

I hear his sleepy and dazed groans as he awakens, finding the sounds strangely endearing.

_Is that what it would sound like when waking up beside him? I guess I'll never know._

A terrible sadness overtakes my racing heart, my legs feeling like stone as I walk back to my room.

_It's for you, Peeta. This is all for you._

* * *

Thanks for reading! :)


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks for the reviews, everybody! I always appreciate when you follow and favorite my story. :)

Edit: Just clearing things up a bit.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

The next day

After taking out the fresh loaves out of the oven, I'm about to head upstairs when I hear unusually angry stomps on the gravel coming closer. Curious, I peek out the window and see none other than Gale Hawthorne with ferocious look on his face making a beeline toward Katniss' house. My body goes cold for a moment before springing toward my door and yard, hoping to stall him.

_I'm well aware that whatever he tells Katniss isn't my business but he looks downright lethal and I know he's going to regret anything he's getting ready to spew at her._

"Good morning!" I call out to him.

He barely glances at me and then looks away disinterestedly.

"Gale, Gale… hold on. Don't be so rash," I mutter, rushing to him.

He scowls at me, not slowing down one bit.

"Mind your own business, Mellark," he snaps.

I feel my shoulders droop with resignation but continue to scramble after him anyway.

"Katniss! Katniss, open up!" he shouts, pounding on the door.

She finally comes to the door and he storms in, not bothering to close the door behind him. Ignoring a stab of discomfort I stand near the doorway as Gale scowls at her, advancing closer to her.

"What the hell is going on, Catnip?"

"You saw the interview, didn't you?" she asks as though the answer is obvious.

"You can't be serious…"

Katniss straightens up and I'm astounded to see that she's not wearing an elaborate dress or fancy jewelry. She's wearing black pants paired with a grey long-sleeved shirt. Her dark hair is woven into a braid and she doesn't have a stitch of makeup.

_It's how Katniss looked before the Games. Back when she was merely Katniss Everdeen, head of the Everdeen women. By comparison, it seems like she transforms into a parody of herself in her fancy garb. But now... just looking at her... it's like being hit with a wave of nostalgia._

"I'm dead serious, Gale."

Her expression may be stern, but her eyes are glassy and her jaw line looks brittle, like it's about to break into a thousand pieces in any second.

"First you disappear when you're supposed to be mentoring. Then you're invited to go on the tour despite the fact that you didn't even mentor him!"

"I was _invited_, Gale! There's no way I could have said no. It's _of the highest honor_ to be invited to attend the Capitol!" she shouts, getting a little red-faced.

"This is all too sudden, Katniss..." he whispers, rubbing his face wearily.

"It's for the best."

_I recognize those words._

"Why?" he demands.

"I love him," she answers him simply, raising her chin into the air.

At her words, Gale recoils from her.

"You're… you're kidding? You _love_ him? You love that man that murdered your family in cold blood?" he hisses at her, waving his arms angrily the air.

"It's… complicated," she sighs, looking away from the resentful look on his face.

"I see no complication, Katniss. You either love him or you don't. You either want to marry him or you don't. But I see that they've brainwashed you with all their fancy food and clothes. I feel like I don't even know you anymore, Katniss. This woman who stands before me… she's a stranger. It looks and sounds like you, but... I don't recognize you."

At his hurtful words Katniss swallows thickly and bites her lip. I step inside the house, trying to think of what to say to calm the both of them down. But honestly, nothing comes to mind.

_So much for that silver tongue of yours, Mellark._

"Gale, please…"

"No, Katniss. Stop. I thought that maybe we could have…" he trails off, shaking his head jerkily. "I hope you have a nice, fulfilling life as the First Lady, Katniss. But just so you know, the moment you say your vows that man, you're dead to me."

"Gale, wait. Please wait. I can explain."

"There's nothing to explain. Goodbye, Katniss," he tells her, ignoring her outstretched arms before turning and striding away from her.

I watch him exit, having half a mind to go after him and...

_What? Try to talk some sense into him? Drag him back here so he can hear her out? No matter what, it's all useless._

But then Katniss bursts into sobs. As I look at her, I realize that I've never seen so much angst or desolation on her face. In turn, I'm overcome with such impotence that I'm struck dumb. Her body crumples to the floor, as if it were boneless, and weeps wildly into her hands.

Right then and there something clicks in my brain.

_She loves him. Of course she loves him. Why didn't I see it before?_

Despite watching her in this moment of agonizing pain, I can't help but feel a strange sort of chilling envy grip my heart.

_Well, of course you wouldn't, Mellark. You've been too busy mooning over her to notice that such thing._

A part of me is telling me to go after Gale and demand that he apologize to Katniss but a bigger part of me urges me to go and comfort her. Not bothering to think about it twice, I shut the door and go to her. I sit down next to her, wanting nothing more than to wrap my arms around her and pull her to me but I'm not sure how she'd react. So I merely sit next to her as she weeps inconsolably, feeling the most useless I've ever felt in my life. My heart nicks a little bit in the moments where she draws a shaky breath before launching into more heart-wrenching sobs.

"Katniss, he doesn't mean it. He's just surprised. The interview caught him off guard," I tell her soothingly. "I mean, the news even caught _me_ off guard."

"Peeta," she cries, fresh tears trailing down her face. "Everything is a mess because of me."

She then surprises me by throwing her arms around my neck and pushing her body close to mine. My heart lurches in my chest when she presses her face into my neck and I don't hesitate to wrap my arms around her trembling body.

_Even now when she's crying over another man you just can't help but comfort her, can you? Did you really think Katniss could possibly choose you, love you over Gale Hawthorne?_

I rub her back slowly, relishing the way her body fits perfectly against mine. A horrifying truth dawns on me: there's no way Katniss could have ever loved me but I can't help but think of what could have been.

_She said herself that she was fond of me, even if it's because I was only other person from back home. But perhaps that fondness could have grown when it was our turn to mentor for the Games. We would have bonded over trying to save our tributes' life and then, should the inevitable happen, we would have comforted each other. Pfft… get real, Mellark._

"He just left, he didn't let me explain," she whimpers into my neck.

"Maybe it was for the best, Katniss. I'd hate for things to get worse for you. You know he wouldn't hesitate to take it out on them," I whisper against the top of her head.

She freezes and goes quiet in my arms, giving my words some thought.

"You're right. He would… he'd…" she lets out a deep breath and clutches me tighter for a precious moment before slowly pulling away.

She straightens up and avoids eye contact while I want nothing more than to look at her face. She finally peeks up at me, mortification written all over her teary face.

"I'm sorry about that, Peeta. I probably soaked your shirt with my…" she trails off, her eyes straying to the collar of my shirt.

"Katniss, please, don't worry about it. It'll wash out," I shrug, flashing a tentative smile at her.

She nods shakily and closes her eyes, letting out a strained breath. After a few heartbeats, she opens them slowly and looks at me, her eyes a magnificent molten pewter.

"Thank you, Peeta," she tells me softly, the corners of her lips curling slightly.

My heart swells with love for her while all I can do is nod like an idiot.

"You're so strong, Katniss. You rise above everything, that's a very admirable quality," I find myself telling her.

Color rises in her cheeks and she looks down shyly and it takes all of my control not to reach out and brush my fingers against her cheek.

_It's somebody else's touch she wants, Mellark. Not yours. _

And just like that, my desire disappears.

"You're far too generous, Peeta," she says finally, looking up at me.

I chuckle and shake my head.

"I don't know about that. But what I said about you _is_ true. You're a fighter and giving up isn't in your nature."

She laughs softly and fidgets with her braid.

"Maybe if I hadn't starved as a child and _then_ had to support my family I might have turned out differently," she shrugs a shoulder.

"It wasn't fair that you had to fend for yourself and your family at such a young age."

"Haven't you heard, Peeta? Life isn't fair," she laughs humorlessly.

_You're telling me._

"I do believe I've heard that somewhere," I chuckle. "Still… even my _mother_ knew you would come out victorious from the Games. That should count for something, right?"

She straightens up and looks at me with surprise splashed all over her face.

"She… what?" she asks, looking adorably confused.

"When you were waiting that minute in the arena, she said 'She's a survivor, that one.' Needless to say, it surprised everybody."

Katniss just stares at me, her eyes round as coins.

"But I thought… I thought your mom hated me," she frowns. "Well, not _me _specifically but people from the Seam."

I can only shrug, her statement being something that had been on my mind just moments before.

"I suppose she's able to recognize strength when she sees it," I tell her, twisting my mouth into a semblance of a smile. "I've always thought she was ridiculously small-minded, though. I don't understand why people are taught to either hate or fear the unknown. Not only is it ridiculous, but it's a horrible way of festering discrimination."

She nods slowly, mulling over my words.

"You're strong," she tells me softly. "Maybe... that was her way of showing you that you are."

I stare at her, attempting to make sense of her words.

"She thought that you could take it, so..." she trails off awkwardly, looking down.

The chilling sound that spills from my mouth is so unlike my own that my ears barely recognizes it as laughter.

"Are you trying to tell me that my mother thought her six-year-old could endure beatings?" I ask sarcastically, feeling rather unlike myself.

She looks up at me, her expression alarmed.

"You... were six?" she whispers.

"Yes, Katniss. It started when I was six and ended eleven years after," I answer warily.

Despite the heavy topic, it feels incredibly _good_ to let someone in. Years and years of evading the unasked questions in people's eyes and finally I can feel myself break free. Yet Katniss remains quiet once more though there is something swirling in her stormy eyes..._  
_

"If she slapped her six-year-old around, hoping he'd be a strong man I think she'd be pretty pleased at the result," I say humorlessly.

"She doesn't deserve you."

"She deserved a little girl yet got stuck with me," I tell her plainly, shrugging. "Of course, she was always sweet as molasses with Delly and Madge."

"Madge?" she asks, startled.

"Yes, Katniss. Madge's my friend too. I saw her outside of school almost as much as you did in school."

Her expression grows somber for a moment and I'm wildly curious to know what she's thinking.

"Did you ever... go on a date with her?" she asks abruptly.

My curiosity turns to bewilderment as I watch her stroke her braid absentmindedly.

"No. My mother always needled me to, though. She would have loved nothing more than to get one of her sons into politics," I roll my eyes.

"So you never… liked Madge?" she asks in a casual tone. "She's so beautiful, though."

Her statement catches me off guard.

_Where is she going with this?_

"That is probably another reason why she was so keen on me to being more than her friend. I'm sure she thought we'd have beautiful blonde babies with the chance that one of them could be the precious girl she'd always wanted."

Her expression falls for a moment but she seems to catch herself just in time, allowing my curiosity to grow once more.

"I never saw her like that. Of course, my friends loved to tease me for having one the prettiest and most affluent girl presented to me in a silver platter, but… what can I say? My thoughts belonged to someone else," I tell her, looking down to avoid seeing the inevitable uncomfortable expression that will undoubtedly appear on her face. "Most people saw her as only physically beautiful, but there'd always been more to her than meets the eye. For one, she chose to eat lunch with you instead of other merchant girls."

She nods slowly, seemingly lost in my words.

_What can this girl possibly be thinking about?_

"You probably would have beautiful blonde babies," she nods in agreement. "Though her eyes are more violet than blue, don't you think?"

"Yes, it was one of the first things I noticed about her," I laugh genuinely. "Oh, the trouble I had getting her to sit for me."

"Sit... for you?" she asks slowly, brows furrowed.

"Yes, to paint her. We shared an art class so we partnered up together when the assignment called for it."

"I didn't know that," she whispers softly.

I give her a peculiar look but smile at her nonetheless.

"I'm not sure why you should. To my knowledge, you didn't really talk much to her."

Her face grows red for a moment but she refrains from answering.

"Did she? Sit for you, I mean," she finally asks, breaking the silence between us.

"Yes, she finally did after much cajoling on my part," I smile fondly. "I still have the painting to this day. I remember offering to give it to her because I knew it would only serve as fuel for my mother's misguided matchmaking. Of course, that portrait was the lone exception of my mother's intolerance toward my painting. She could never understand how or why it was important to me. I'm not going to lie, I didn't try very hard to get her to see my way either. Not that I would won _that_ particular argument. But I digress... Madge didn't accept the portrait. She told me that she would be happy to come over to look at it whenever she felt like it."

"So how did you... end up painting her?" she asks, clearing her throat nervously.

I give her a sly look, wondering if she's imagining what I think she is.

"I painted her playing her piano. Or really, making it look like her fingers were skimming the keys. She wore her white reaping dress and that gold ribbon in her hair, which just seemed to make her eyes look even bluer. Plus, with the sunlight pouring in through the window... it just made it all seem so otherworldly. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen and it was definitely one of my proudest moments."

She nods, fidgeting with the end of her braid.

"I can understand why. I think Madge was the prettiest girl at school. Her blue-violet eyes, golden hair, porcelain skin and rosy lips..."

"No, it didn't have to do with her beauty at all. I mean, yes, Madge is pretty but... she was the first person I ever painted. As a matter of fact, she was the one who encouraged me to start. She noticed how it started with decorating the cakes at the bakery and suggested that I try my hand at drawing on paper, which eventually evolved into painting," I smile. "That's why it's one of the paintings I'm most proud of."

There's a soft smile playing on the corner of Katniss' lips and she looks at me with something that looks like awe.

"Do you still talk to her?"

"Yes, we've gotten closer after I won. To think it started with that damn phone..." she snickers, shaking her head. "How about you?"

"No, I haven't had a chance to," I tell her shortly.

She eyes me quizzically but doesn't pry. Wanting to change the subject, I remember her earlier remark and grin, giving her a playful look.

"I think you may have noticed Madge far more than some guys at school did," I tease.

Her face grows beet red and sputters, undoubtedly trying to defend herself.

"Just joking, Katniss," I snicker, covering my mouth with my fingertips.

Her face slowly returns to its smooth olive color and gives me quite a glare. But something unpleasant seems to cross her mind because her expression falls suddenly.

"She was everything I wasn't," she says in a hushed tone. "Rich Madge Undersee, the mayor's daughter. Dirt poor Katniss Everdeen, practically orphaned. How we must have looked sitting side by side. She with her porcelain skin, mine burnt. Her golden hair gleamed while mine was dark and unruly. Her eyes like polished sapphires and mine like the sky before a storm. She was always a bit more curvaceous than me while I always resembled a beanpole. Of course, I could never resent her because she was always to fair and good to me."

A heavy sadness slowly spreads through me.

"There's nothing to resent, Katniss. You're very beautiful. In fact, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," I tell her honestly.

She merely presses her lips together and gives me a look of clear disbelief.

"You're just being nice," she scoffs, rolling her eyes.

"Perhaps. But I _do_ mean it. Sure, Madge is beautiful too, I won't deny it. But you're both beautiful in your own way."

"Meaning I'm not beautiful at all," she scowls at me.

"Not when you scowl like that, no," I smile at her, hoping to lighten her mood.

The corners of her lips twitch up hesitantly.

"When you're in your Capital clothing... you're a sight to behold," I breathe out, thinking of the first time I laid eyes on her. "I'm not sure how comfortable you _really_ are in those dresses and heels, but you make it look like it's the most natural thing in the world. The way you carry yourself, it's like you're a mythical creature... or royalty. Someone that everybody wants to get close to but only let those you deem worthy near. Not only do your clothes command attention, but your face does too. No, I don't mean your makeup although that probably helps too. To be honest, though, I think you look better without it. But back to what I was saying... your eyes. They're electrifying. One look into them and we're sucked into their sooty abyss, merely hoping that you give us the time of day."

She blinks, her cheeks coloring brightly at my words.

"But now, when you're dressed down... you're more approachable. Yet still terrifying. I'm not even sure how I'm talking to right you now," I joke, laughing softly.

"What do you mean?" she frowns.

"I could never muster up the courage to talk to you. I know you caught me staring plenty of times and I'm very sorry if it creeped you out. You probably thought something was wrong with me," I chuckle. "There were many days when I'd wake up and think 'This is it. This is the day I'll finally talk to Katniss' but just seeing you, looking so cool and collected... it would intimidate the hell out of me. So I settled for watching you from afar and picking up any little detail I could, hoping you wouldn't tell me off."

"I probably would have found it a little strange," she admits. "I'm pretty sure I would have told you to scram, though."

"Yes, I know. You were always so... untouchable."

She gazes at me intently and it makes me strangely fidgety to be scrutinized with such fervor by her.

"Not as much as you."

"What?" I ask, feeling a bit taken aback.

"You were always Mr. Popular, surrounded by a large crowd of friends who laughed at every joke you said. Always desired by girls," she adds in a strange tone.

"You've got to be kidding me," I laugh, shaking my head in disbelief.

"I'm serious. I was so invisible that girls didn't bother watching their tongue when I was around. You wouldn't believe the amount of girls that would have wanted nothing more than for you to look their way."

I stare at her, unable to believe what she's saying yet know that she's not lying to me.

_Something is off about the way she's telling me, though._

"Funny, smart, athletic, talented and good-looking Peeta Mellark. Everybody wanted a piece of you. And if they couldn't, they would have settled for your attention," she says, giving me a little smile at last.

I feel myself blush and look down with embarrassment.

"Not _everybody_," I tell her meaningfully, unable to make myself look at her.

Thick silence surrounds us and I berate myself, telling myself that I should have known my comment would bother her.

"I wouldn't be so sure," she says at last.

I look up at her in disbelief but see that she's avoiding looking at me but there are telltale bright patches on her cheeks.

"I didn't think you thought much of me."

"I think I did it a lot more than I should have," she blushes darker.

"It was just my rotten luck to be picked as a tribute. I was so scared that you were going to be my mentor and even more scared that you would just give up on me," I confess to her. "Give up on me before I could even tell you how I feel."

"I'm glad you didn't, though. I'm sure _they_ would have milked it for all its worth. Anything you feel or think is much too pure, too good for the Capitol," she whispers heatedly.

A blush creeps onto my cheeks again but I smile shyly at her, watching her eyes soften into liquid silver.

"Thank you, Peeta. For everything. I don't know what I've done to be so deserving of your kindness..." she trails off, looking deeply into my eyes.

"I've never wanted you to thank me, Katniss," I tell her softly. "Your well-being has always been first and foremost important to me."

She reaches her hand out and very tenderly brushes her cold fingers on the very spot my mother hit me for burning the bread so many years ago. I feel my lips part at her touch and part of me wishes nothing more than to lean into her hand but I know it would fluster her.

So I keep very still instead.

I swallow nervously, hoping the knot in my throat dissolves soon. I watch her lick her lips and very gently cups my cheek in her hand. For a moment I consider closing my eyes, as to enjoy the feel of her skin on mine but decide against it. Her gaze is intoxicating and something hangs in the air between us. It's heavy and it reminds me of the ambiance from the night on the beach in District 4.

I feel her fingers tremble slightly and I know it's taking a lot of courage for her to reach out to me like this. I let out a soft contented sigh as she skims her fingertips through my hair. She smiles at the sound and focuses her eyes on my hair, sliding her lower lip between her teeth.

_Oh, dear Lord. Please let her run her fingers through my hair. Please, please, please... if I've **ever** been deserving of anything, you can make it up to me now, God._

As if reading my thoughts, or merely reading the longing on my face, she very gently pats my head. For a wild moment I want to bark playfully but know it would break whatever this is. I've been craving her touch for much too long to interrupt it. She finally presses her fingertips into my scalp and it feels so _good_. She gently moves her fingertips in circular motions and while I'm almost sure I'm about to start purring, she runs her fingers slowly through my hair. But soon they're tracing over my eyebrows and temples, a curiosity growing in her eyes. She's light with her touch and soon it becomes heated although I think that's just in my head. Her fingertips stroke under my eyes ever so lightly, like the wings of a moth. She brushes them down my cheeks and jaw, stopping at my chin. She focuses her eyes on my lips and although she doesn't touch them, it's as if she's warming them up with her gaze alone. I swallow nervously, wondering what she's going to do next.

_Is she going to kiss me? It seems improbable, but stranger things have happened… I wonder what Katniss Everdeen sees when she looks at me. Oh, to be privy to her innermost thoughts and feelings!_

She raises her left hand to my face but stops it in midair when the sparkle of her ring catches the light. We both look at it and her face pales before my eyes. We turn to look at each other, any trace of happiness or pining gone now. Her expression becomes solemn and I hate how it ages her incredibly.

"This is wrong," she murmurs, dropping her hands to her lap.

"Lucky Gale didn't see the ring. I'm sure he would have tried to swallow it whole or something," I joke tastelessly, looking down at the floor.

She makes a noise at the back of the throat, as though remembering her quarrel with him.

"You should go, Peeta," she chokes out. "Go now before... before..."

"Before it's too late?" I offer sympathetically.

"Before we both regret it," she sighs.

"The only thing I'll regret is—"

"Stop, Peeta. Don't," she snaps.

"Alright, Katniss," I tell her wearily. "Thanks for the chat."

I pick myself up and briefly consider stretching out my hand for her but I know she would just ignore it. I make myself walk toward the door and turn to look at Katniss one last time and see her staring at the floor with such sorrow that I almost go back to her.

_No, she's right Mellark. There's no way Snow won't hear of this. Better leave now while things aren't so... personal. Little does she know that it's always been personal with her._

"Make sure you eat, Katniss. I'll bring you bread every morning... don't worry, you don't have to greet me. I can just let myself in and out," I tell her.

She still doesn't respond, not that I was expecting her to anyway. So I turn around and open the door, stepping over the doorway and closing it behind me. I rest my back against it, tucking my hand into my pocket. My fingers brush against the surface of the pearl I found in the oyster Katniss had stubbed her toe on back in District 4. I take it out and roll it between my fingers, observing its glowing, smooth surface.

_You'll always remind me of the wonderful time I had with her that night. If only things were different… I'd make it so you'd definitely belong to Katniss. I'd have you mounted on a golden band and slip you on her fourth finger. But there's no chance of that happening now... or ever, really. A shinier and bigger ring rests there now. It's okay, though, I'll always treasure and love you._

I watch how the light catches its surface, bringing about its luminescent gleam. I sigh and feel a stifling sadness begin to weave through my chest. I let it roll onto the palm of my hand and grasp it tightly before slipping it back into my pocket.

_Just as I will always love Katniss._

* * *

Thanks for reading everybody! See you on Friday. :)


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Surely enough, punishment arrives in the form of Cinna a week later.

I'm sitting outside on the front porch when I see him walking towards her house followed by her trio of stylists pushing five enormous crates. I feel myself gape at the sheer size of them and wonder what can be in there until Cinna's compassionate expression catches my eye.

_Her wedding dresses. What else could take up so much space?_

I leap up from my spot and jog towards Cinna, who's standing on Katniss' doorstep.

"The dresses?" I ask breathlessly.

He gives a short nod, his lips curving downward for a second before placing a pleasant look on his face.

"So soon? I thought this was going to take months…"

"If only," he murmurs. "You should go fetch Haymitch. I'm sure he won't want to to miss this."

I nod and sprint over to Haymitch's house. For once I'm able to ignore the mess and terrible smell and shake him awake.

"Haymitch, Haymitch! Wake up! Cinna and the stylists are here. They've brought her wedding gowns," I tell him urgently.

He groans, attempting to swat me away with his hand.

"Damn it, Haymitch. This is no time to be passed out drunk. Katniss needs you," I sigh.

I spot a glass of water on the coffee table and grab it, steeling myself for his response after dousing him in it. He opens his eyes and I jump back, easily missing the tip of the sharp knife he's slashing the air.

"Haymitch, please calm down. It's just me, Peeta. Listen, Cinna and the stylists are here with large crates. You need to change and come with me. Katniss needs us," I explain rapidly.

He rubs his eyes and looks at me as if it's the first time he's ever laid eyes on me.

"What?" he asks dazedly, expression set in a heavy frown.

"Cinna brought Katniss wedding gowns to try on. Surely that means the wedding isn't too far into the future," I tell him.

The words finally sink in and his eyes open widely.

"So soon? Impossible!" he yelps, pawing through the discarded clothes on the floor.

He finally settles on a relatively stain-free shirt and puts it on hastily, motioning for me to lead the way. We both make it to her house immediately and ascend the stairs, knowing she's probably in her room with Cinna.

"Sweetheart, you in there? The boy told me that I oughtn't to miss the bridal fashion show you're about to put on," he drawls, sounding far less concerned than he looks.

_How **does** he do that? _

"Go away, Haymitch! I don't need you here!" she snaps, sounding aggrieved.

"You're fooling yourself if you think that's going to make me leave. Besides, we'll need to practice for when I walk you down the aisle," he tells her easily, leaning against her door.

She hisses something in response and I can hear Cinna murmur soothing words to her.

"You're not helping," I sigh, frowning at him.

"Never said I came to help," he smirks halfheartedly.

"You care about her as much as I do, Haymitch. Surely you—"

"Hush, boy," he wheezes, looking around wildly.

_Oh, right. They might be watching us right now. It's unbelievably creepy. Although not entirely unexpected._

Haymitch and I wait what feels like hours. The male stylist finally opens the door, almost causing Haymitch to tumble backwards into her bedroom. I choke back my laughter but Cinna distracts me when he beckons us to go in.

I'd never been in her room before and though I want nothing more than to observe her surroundings, the sight of her in a wedding gown stops me short.

It's white and strapless, the beaded bodice hugging her upper body tightly. There's layer upon layer upon layer of frothy white and glittering material flowing from the waist down. In fact, the skirt is so puffy that anybody would have trouble standing directly in front of her. Katniss looks nothing short of a princess, especially with the flowered lace sash around her waist and with the many diamond necklaces that hang around her neck. Her earlobes are dripping with diamonds and there's a very royal-looking tiara atop her head. Her hair is slicked back into some sort of updo and a glimmering veil falls to the floor. Her wrists shine with the bracelets that are stacked on there that it's virtually impossible for Katniss not to sparkle anytime she makes any little movement. Her makeup is soft but elegant, still making her recognizable as herself.

"Sweetheart…" Haymitch stands still, gawking at her.

Despite the very picture of loveliness that she represents, Katniss looks downright miserable.

"I think this is the most traditional wedding dress I designed. There were originally ten but President Snow narrowed it down to five," Cinna informs us.

"How will Katniss decide which one to wear?" I ask, feeling genuinely curious.

"The citizens of Panem will vote for their favorite, of course," he smiles.

Katniss presses her lips together, putting them at risk of disappearing completely.

"Well, that's a really great dress," Haymitch nods, unable to take his eyes off of her. "Still, we can tell that it's our gal by her lovely scowl."

Katniss glares daggers at Haymitch and tries to turn around but finds herself weighed down by the layers of chiffon or tulle or whatever material makes up her skirt. This causes Haymitch to burst into laughter and for Katniss to get even angrier. Finally Cinna ushers us out, telling us that he needs to have her try on the next gown and look.

An hour and a half later, Cinna calls us in again and I feel my mouth drop when I lay eyes on Katniss. While the first dress was puffy and rather princess-y, this gown fits her body like a second layer of skin. It's a creamy white beaded satin dress with a sheer panel on her chest that manages to show off a hint of cleavage, making it look tasteful rather than gaudy. It has a high lace neckline that covers her shoulders. The sleeves of the dress are connected to it, though the sleeves themselves are beaded just as the dress is. Cinna signals for Katniss to turn around and my jaw drops even lower. The back of her dress has a rather large cutout, displaying her tan, polished skin. I swallow thickly when I spot the dimples on her lower back, idly wondering how it'd feel to brush my fingers on them when Haymitch coughs loudly, nudging my side none too gently.

I clear my throat and ignore the blush that's spread over my face and force myself to pay attention to her dress once more. There's a line of buttons running down her behind until it hits the train of the dress, which consists of cascading ruffles. I look up at her hair and see that it's braided rather intricately with a crown of small white flowers tucked all around her head. Cinna proceeds to put her veil on and turns her around again to us. There's a small garland of diamonds hanging from the front of her veil, laying flat against her forehead. The back of the veil manages to somewhat conceal her exposed back, barely grazing the top button of the dress. Her makeup is slightly sexier, matching perfectly with the dress.

"I like that one," I speak gruffly, clearing my throat.

Cinna smiles and turns to Katniss.

"I told you he would," he winks while Katniss continues to look sour.

"What does it matter if he does?" she grumbles.

"Katniss… you look truly beautiful. No matter what dress they'd choose for you," I tell her, feeling my face heat up again.

She looks at me from under her lashes and I can almost see a tiny smile form on her lips. For a wild moment I let myself daydream that she's walking down the aisle toward me, her lips growing into a heart-stopping grin. A happiness that I hadn't felt in a while flows easily through me. It allows me to almost forget who she's _really_ going to get married to.

Cinna gently ushers us out to get Katniss ready for the third dress. Haymitch and I stand quietly, waiting patiently as the stylists and Cinna work their magic on Katniss.

"That was a great dress," I murmur to Haymitch, who still looks slightly dumbstruck.

"Yeah, I could tell. It's going to be hard to get your drool off my shoes," he jokes, snickering.

"No kidding. I could almost _feel_ myself salivate at the mere sight of her," I sigh, rubbing my eyes. "He doesn't deserve to see her walk toward him in that."

"He doesn't deserve her, period," he whispers under his breath.

I can't help but agree silently.

"Okay, come on in," Cinna tells us.

I want nothing more than to trample in but know that Haymitch would give me hell for that. So instead, I offer to let him walk in first but he just rolls his eyes at me and slouches in. I follow close by and feel my lips spread into a smile as I look at Katniss in her dress.

This one has sheer sleeves that billow to her elbows, embroidered with silk flowers and gemstones. The dress fits her nicely and it's not overly puffy like the first, with the exception of the bottom half of the dress. It flares out a little beneath her knees and it makes me wonder if she'd have trouble walking down the aisle in it.

_Plus, add in the exaggerated heels Cinna usually puts her in. It seems like a recipe for disaster._

Still, the dress is a complete work of art. The hem of the dress is scalloped and it shimmers with every fidgeting movement Katniss makes. There's layers of filmy tulle over the bottom part of the skirt and I can make out the embroidery that matches the one on her sleeves. The sparkle around Katniss' neck catches my eye next and I wonder how I was able to miss that when I first saw her. She wears a choker that is dripping with diamonds and although it looks uncomfortable, it makes her neck look elongated and gives her a graceful air. Her wrists are also stacked with diamonds but I'm surprised to note the simple diamond studs decorating her earlobes. Her hair, however, was one of the first things that caught my eye. It has a deep part and twisted up high, shining white feathers tucked into the side.

_She looks like an unhappy little cockatoo. No, if she ever heard me call her that, I'm sure she'd never speak to me again. Although it's certainly an eccentric look here in 12, it fits her quite nicely. It seems like there's no dress or look Katniss can't pull off._

Like first two times, Cinna makes Katniss stand still so he can snap pictures of her. He has to remind her to smile, which makes her scowl deeper before taking a deep breath and grinning toothily at the camera.

"Kind of looked like a bird, didn't she?" Haymitch mutters once we're back in the hallway. "You'd think that I'd be used to seeing it all after all my years of being surrounded by people from the Capitol. Yet that..."

"She looked pretty," I tell him defensively.

"Calm down, boy. Never said she wasn't. It's just odd," he snickers. "Who dresses a bride like a bird? Then again, I really shouldn't be _too_ surprised. Hey, maybe her next dress will consist of her wearing an old sack of potatoes."

I smother the laughter that threatens to spill, not wanting to be overheard by Katniss. She's got enough on her plate with her stylists fawning over her.

Again, Cinna calls us in for the fourth dress and I'm shocked to see that her shoulder is covered in blood. I'm about to bound to her when Haymitch holds me back, pulling me back into my spot. I turn to glare at him to let me go but he just shakes his head roughly before motioning me to get a better look at her dress. What I first thought of as her blood appears to be glistening rubies and garnets shaped like flowers draped on her shoulder with smaller gemstones decorating her sleeve. Katniss seems to be wearing some kind of nude bodice with metallic white lace covering the dress. The lace swirls around her shoulders and stomach, looping around her waist. Cinna turns her around slowly and I see how the gemstones decorate the lower back of the dress, sweeping down to the small and flared hemline of the dress; it vaguely reminds me of the hemline of the dress she wore for her interview in her Games.

Her hair is piled high, peppered with rubies and garnets. Her makeup looks natural and of course, her lips are a deep velvety red. She doesn't seem to be wearing much jewelry with the exception of the matching ruby earrings that dangle from her ears.

Cinna finally calls us in for the last time.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself for whatever dress comes next. Katniss stands in the middle of the room in a pure white dress that fits her nicely, though not as tightly as the previous dress. The neckline of the dress drapes gently while the skirt falls straight to the floor, pooling around her feet. There's a satin sash around her waist and when she turns I see how it forms into a bow on her back, the ends of it trailing down the skirt. The back of her dress drapes as the front does, though there's a panel of beaded lace that prevents from much skin to peek through. The same beaded lace rests on her shoulders, where scalloped sleeves flutter down her shoulders. Her neck is covered in necklaces of diamonds and pearls while her wrists in necklaces of the same. On her earlobes drip pearl and diamond earrings while tucked into her smooth bun is a comb of the same once more. Her makeup looks natural but slightly more sophisticated than the first dress. A small veil hangs from under her bun, barely brushing her shoulder blades.

"Well?" Cinna prompts, eyeing Katniss carefully.

"Very classy. Looks very lady-like," Haymitch offers.

"I think the public may pick this one, Cinna. While it's not simple, it's the least... commanding compared to the others. Katniss looks beautiful and refined, exuding a more lady-like air than the other two," I tell him, unable to take my eyes off of her.

She looks back at me, the same longing in her eyes as the time when she ran her fingers through my hair.

"You make an excellent point, Peeta. You may be right," he chuckles, nodding.

Haymitch scoffs good-naturedly (I assume) and smirks at me.

"Would you care to make a wager, boy?"

"About?" I ask hesitantly.

"About the dress that will be chosen," he says, rolling his eyes.

I glance at Katniss, hoping that she doesn't take him the wrong way. She merely stares down at her dress, smoothing the skirt down with her hands.

"Sure. I bet that this dress will win."

"While I, dearest boy, think the second one will win. The Capitol people sure love flashiness," he laughs.

"You're on, Haymitch. If I win, you quit drinking and clean up your house."

"Oh ho ho… feisty, I see. Alright, but if _I_ win, you have to get rip-roaring drunk with me," he grins, stretching his hand out to me.

I grin back and give his hand a shake, feeling fairly certain that I'll be winning this bet.

"I accept."

Katniss just rolls her eyes and Cinna ushers us out of her bedroom once more.

"I honestly expected her to cry or something," I mutter to Haymitch as we make our way downstairs.

"Not gonna lie, I did too, kid. Seems like she's much stronger than we thought," he says, sounding awed.

We sit down in the living room and wait for Cinna, the stylists and Katniss to descend downstairs. Eventually he and the stylists come down and I crane my neck to look for her.

"She's taking a shower. We'll be off now. Have to turn in the pictures," he sighs softly, shaking our hands before exiting Katniss' house.

"Well, kid… I got stuff to do. I'll leave her in your capable hands," he winks at me.

I blush again wave at him.

_Would it be too much if I waited in her room? Yes, yes it would. Hmm… maybe I should bring her some bread. Who knows if she ate any of it this morning. Yes, I'll do just that…_

I walk over to my house and stick a loaf of bread in the oven, tapping my foot impatiently as I wait for it to warm up. I probably could have used the microwave, but it's not the same thing. As soon as my kitchen starts to smell of bread, I turn the oven off and very carefully take out the tray. I grab a bag and gently stow the loaf of bread in there before finally exiting my house.

I don't knock on Katniss' door, instead letting myself in quietly.

"Katniss? Where are you? I brought some bread," I call out to her, poking my head in the kitchen.

But she's not there.

I know that she _has_ to somewhere in the house, but a part of me can't help but worry. I quickly climb the stairs and see that the door to her room is closed.

"Katniss? Are you in there?" I knock.

Silence.

"Katniss, it's Peeta. Mind if I come in?"

Still nothing.

"Katniss, I'm coming in. I hope you're decent," I mutter, any worry drowned out by embarrassment for the moment.

I open the door slowly, making sure that Katniss isn't half-dressed or something. When I don't see her, I look in the bathroom. It's all fogged up but she isn't there either. I move into her room again, looking around curiously.

"Katniss?" I whisper.

A muffled noise comes from the closet, startling me. I swallow nervously, walking slowly towards it.

_There's no way Katniss is in there… right? But if it's not her, then what could it possibly be? What if someone broke into her house? Could they be holding her hostage? But who would __**do**__ that? Katniss is a victor… and rich._

I stretch my hand out toward the handle slowly, taking a quick breath. I open the wooden sliding door quickly and nestled within the silks and tulle is Katniss, her knees pressed to her chest with her arms wrapped around her legs. She's hunched over, her face pressed into the top of her knees.

"Oh, Katniss," I sigh softly, placing the loaf of bread on her bed before turning to her once more.

She looks up at me, her face tear-stained and morose. I step in immediately, surprised at the roominess of it and close the door, blocking out light. I sit down carefully, making sure I'm not wrinkling anything and reach my hand out blindly towards her. I squint and start to make out her figure, still hunched over. My fingertips finally brush against the back of her hand, surprising her. She lifts her head and assume that she's looking at me.

"Peeta," she breathes out quietly.

"I'm here," I tell her soothingly, brushing my thumb along her chilly knuckles. "For as long as you need it."

"I'll always need you," she murmurs softly.

Something warm stirs in my chest and I force myself to push it back.

_This is no time to be focusing on your emotions, Mellark. Besides, she probably doesn't mean it the way you want it to. So there, you fool._

"What's wrong?" I ask, changing the subject before I give into asking what she meant.

"The dresses," she answers simply, swallowing loudly. "I wasn't ready for that."

"I don't think any of us were, honestly," I sigh. "You looked beautiful, though. No, beyond beautiful… you were ethereal."

I can just picture her blushing, which brings a smile to my face.

"I felt empty. Sure, the gowns were astounding but… it made me feel a little dead inside. I can just imagine how I'll feel on _the day_."

"Don't think of it like that, Katniss. I know it's not ideal… but at least you'll be safe then. Or at least safer," I tell her quietly.

"But at what price?" she scoffs, sounding disgusted. "I've already lost so much…"

"_Precisely_. You've already lost too much. There's no point in sacrificing anything you might have left. Guard it close to your heart because it's not worth losing it."

She lets out a soft sigh and can see her shaking her head.

"You don't even know the first of it," she mumbles.

Curiosity piques at me but I don't pursue the topic further.

_Surely she's thinking of Gale. Well, of course she is, Mellark. Did you really think she might have been referring to you? Get real. You know she loves him._

"I can only hope that he won't take advantage of your married status to try anything," I mutter darkly.

To my surprise, she gives a little laugh.

"No worries there. He doesn't find me appealing in the least. He told me himself," she says, sounding relieved.

"I'm glad," I sigh, relief ringing in my own voice.

"I don't want to do it, Peeta. I know the moment I proclaim any vow to be his I'll surely die," she speaks inaudibly, her voice sounding raspy.

"You won't, Katniss. I'm sure the union will bring more peace than not."

"The only solace," she whispers.

"Just pretend it's one more event that victor Katniss has to face. I mean, you've done so well in the past."

She remains quiet and I can almost feel her eyes watching me in rapt attention.

"You saw through that?" she whispers.

I'm about to ask what she means when she gives a little laugh.

"Well, of course you did, Peeta. Here I thought that Haymitch was the only who noticed. Of course, he's way past that at this point," she sighs heavily.

"I'm pretty sure I put up a front as well, Katniss. It's not like I enjoy talking to those people," I say with a shake of my head.

"Could have fooled me," she mumbles. "Then again, I've always known you to be friendly to everybody you meet, so maybe that's why."

"I'm not _that_ friendly. Delly is, though. She could talk the ear off of anybody," I chuckle, remembering my childhood friend.

"I remember. She used to bid me good morning once in a while with a smile so wide that I thought she must have been mocking me. But now I realize that's how she is," she laughs softly.

"That's Delly alright."

"Do you miss her?" she asks me with cautious tone.

"Sure I do. I haven't seen her since I came back home. I know she's been busy taking over her parents' shop. Though that's not much of an excuse, even if she were to buy it."

"Why's that?"

"I think I may be trying to push everybody away from me," I whisper, biting my lip. "The farther they are from me, the safer I can keep them from the Capitol. So that I don't somehow pass on to them the horrors I've seen and been through."

Katniss shifts and moves towards me and for a wild moment I think she's going to kiss me. But instead the sits next to me, lacing her arm through mine and resting her head on my shoulder.

_Just as good as a kiss. Not that I think she would ever really kiss me, anyway._

"You don't deserve any of that, Peeta. It's not fair."

"Haven't you heard, Katniss? Life isn't fair," I smile wryly, repeating her words to her.

She chuckles softly and squeezes my arm tightly.

"I'm well aware of that. But you've always been so unlike anybody I know."

"I think that wouldn't be the case if you'd let people get close to you," I tease her.

She bumps her elbow into my side as if to chide me but I can't help but smile.

"You make a good point, though. I never did bother with making friends because I found the very idea useless. I could only rely on myself and thought that anybody else would just weigh me down. Especially since I needed to keep my family alive."

I think of Gale, an irrationally jealous sentiment puncturing into my heart. Still, I don't mention him in fear of reducing Katniss to tears once more. I really like playful Katniss and it makes me regret not befriending her sooner.

"Maybe I could have helped you," I say, forcing myself not to sound petulant.

"But you did," she says, sounding surprised at my comment. "You gave me the bread that willed me to keep on going. I have nobody to thank but you. I sit here because of you."

I blush, her words warming me to my core despite knowing that she's being overly kind.

"No, you're here because you're strong, Katniss, because you never gave up."

"Because _you_ gave me hope just when I was about to," she tells me firmly, squeezing my arm once more.

My blush grows deeper and I feel like the closet has gotten too hot all of a sudden.

I turn my face slightly to her, opening my mouth to tell her she's giving me far too much credit when I feel something warm press against my lips.

In blink in confusion and belatedly realize that it's none other than Katniss' lips on mine. She pulls away quickly, her breath fanning across my overly heated face. I hear her swallow noisily and pull her to me before she can move away. A gasp of surprise escapes her lips but I crush mine against them, feeling jolts of electricity spark through my veins all the way to my heart. She shifts her position quickly and ends up straddling me, running her fingers into my hair and gently tugging on it. Her lips mold perfectly against mine, moving with the same passion which races through me. I wrap my arms around her, pressing her closer to me and savoring the curves of her back. A shiver runs through her body and in turn one runs through me. Her lips are clumsy but she kisses me hotly, a soft moan leaving her lips when I stroke her lower back.

The ends of her hair graze my hand and I don't hesitate to stroke it, thinking of the many times I daydreamed about having the chance to touch her dark, shining hair. It's incredibly soft, if wet and long. I idly wonder why she braids it, it's much too beautiful to be restrained.

But she suddenly bites my lower lip, sending a shot of desire straight to my groin and I can't help but moan her name aloud. She pulls her lips from mine and brushes them along my jaw, tugging on my hair once more. I press my hands against her waist, gripping it tightly while she nibbles on my earlobe. She slides her fingertips slowly down the sides of my neck, eliciting a shiver from me and continues until she presses her hands flat against my chest.

_Wait a minute, what's going on? Why is she doing this? Is this an act of desperation? Because she can't kiss who she'd really like to and has to make do with me? I can't deny how __**real**__ it feels, though. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to keep this going…_

Her lips find their way to mine again and we kiss for a long time. Soon I begin to grow lightheaded at the lack of oxygen in me and I pull away from her, panting softly.

"My God, Katniss… how I love you," I murmur against her lips.

She freezes, digging her fingers into my chest and I instantly regret uttering the phrase to her. Katniss pulls away from me and sits back on her feet.

"This is wrong," she whispers, sounding breathless. "I shouldn't have… I'm so sorry, Peeta."

I let out a breath and close my eyes, regret and shame gnawing at me.

"I'm sorry too, Katniss. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you," I mumble.

"What? You didn't… you didn't take advantage of me."

"Please stop… you're not doing me any favors. I'll go now. Make sure to eat the bread I brought," I tell her numbly, standing to my feet and sliding the door open.

"Peeta, wait. It's not… it's not what you think," she says, scrambling up after me.

"Katniss, please. You've been kind enough," I tell her, unable to meet her eyes and quickly make my way out of her room.

I practically run down the staircase and out the door, breathing in the fresh air to clear my head. After a particularly deep take of air, I turn around and look up at Katniss' house. My head stills feels a little fuzzy and I can still hear my heart pounding in my ears.

_She's sorry because she doesn't feel the same way. She's sorry because she won't ever feel the same way. As if I couldn't become more foolish..._

I turn and head back to my house, itching to have a paintbrush in hand.

* * *

I apologize for any mistakes! I hope everybody enjoyed and thanks for reading. :)

Have a great weekend.


	11. Chapter 11

Thanks for the favorites, following and reviews! I truly appreciate them. Keep 'em coming. ;)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

There's a special report scheduled for tonight so Haymitch and I are watching in my house. He offered to watch it in his house but it seems that he's going even more out of his way to make filthy after that wedding dress bet between us. So my house it is. I was tempted to extend the invitation out to Katniss as well, but after that kiss last week… I haven't quite been able to face her.

Even though Haymitch feigns disinterest in the matter, I can see from the impatient glances he keeps throwing at me that he's wondering _when_ I'm finally going to spill the beans between what happened with Katniss and me.

"For crying out loud, kid!" he huffs out. "I've watched you mope around for a week and the girl's become even surlier than usual... and that's saying something. What in Daniels' name is going on?"

I drop myself on the sofa and stare down at my hands, shuffling my feet out of embarrassment and unease.

"She kissed me."

I almost miss his initial reaction but manage to look up in time to watch his eyes practically bug out of their sockets and mouth hang open.

"No!" he gasps in disbelief.

"It's true. But I let it slip that I love her in the heat of the moment and needless to say, she freaked out. So I left and have been ignoring her diligently ever since."

"Way to go, kid. You're finally getting somewhere with her," he snickers, giving me a roguish wink.

I feel heat rise to my face but I give him an expression laden with disapproval and exasperation.

"I have a feeling it happened because of the fight she had with Gale," I sigh forlornly. "To my knowledge, she hasn't seen or spoken to him. You should have seen her after they fought, Haymitch. Never have I seen anybody look _so_ heartbroken. It was right then and there when it hit me that she loves him."

"It's clear enough that she loves him, kid. Why else would she be doing what she's doing?" he shrugs, regaining his composure.

Now, I've known that she loves him but to have it confirmed by Haymitch… well, it's just brutal.

"Why doesn't she run off with him, then?" I ask immaturely.

I can feel Haymitch's brooding grey eyes on me but I refuse to look at him out of shame.

"She loves you too, you know."

I look up at him, ready to glare at him just in case this is his idea of a (terrible) joke.

"Now listen here, it may or may not be in the way that you want. I'm positive she isn't certain and I'm not even sure myself; she can a little tough to read sometimes, especially when it comes to emotions. But the feelings are there."

I sit still, feeling my heart pounding loudly in my ears.

"Why else do you think she's been able to open up to you?"

"I'm not sure. A part of me was sure that I was nothing more than an annoyance to her," I admit meekly.

"Oh, yeah... what a pain in the ass _you_ are," he drawls, rolling his eyes.

I can't help but chuckle quietly despite everything that's going on.

"She's a good kid but she could live a hundred lifetimes and still not deserve you, boy."

I open my mouth to argue but Haymitch holds a calloused hand up.

"You have entirely thrown your lot with hers without asking for anything in return. It's not every day that someone stands up to the President's back alley transactions, let alone face the man himself. I know I give you a lot of shit, but you're good. As a matter of fact, you're the best out of all of us."

I feel my cheeks redden at his rare praise but frown at him all the same.

"You just said so yourself, Haymitch; she's good. I know it's not always black and white with her, but she has her heart in the right place. She has a dreadful tendency to worry about others' safety before hers. Dreadful yet strangely admirable."

"No kidding. We wouldn't be in this situation if she wasn't like that," he murmurs, patting down his filthy waistcoat, surely in search for his flask. "Still, she's not the only one who puts the safety of others before hers."

He gives me a pointed look and I'm about to respond when the television suddenly comes to life. The camera slowly focuses on Snow, who's standing behind a podium and donning a patient, fatherly smile.

_A wolf in sheep's clothing._

"Dear citizens of Panem, tonight I bring you a marvelous announcement. Actually, there will be two but I shall start with the happiest one. The votes for my betrothed's wedding dress are in. We have the winning dress but unfortunately it won't be unveiled until my charming fiancée wears it on our blissful day."

The camera pans to the crowd and although the majority look excited beyond relief, a ripple of whispers has broken out. The camera pans back to Snow and it's obvious that he loathes not being in control of the crowd. I smile impishly, satisfied that at least _someone_ is giving him hell. He grits his teeth before smoothing his expression into one of regret.

"But! But... the wedding _will_ be televised, that way everybody has a chance to be part of that special, special day. Also, there's a special treat waiting for everybody who will be watching. I can't disclose what it is, but let me tell you... it will be like music to your ears."

The crowd becomes mollified and there are shouts and screams of joy heard while the President continues grinning into the camera. He finally looks down at his notes and his white eyebrows rise elegantly.

"My… it seems that there will be not two, but three announcements tonight. As for the third and last announcement... as you all know, the upcoming Hunger Games will not be an ordinary one. This year marks the 75th anniversary, which in turns makes these games a Quarter Quell. For the third Quarter Quell, tributes will be pulled from the existing pool of victors. Should a certain district lack female victors, a relative would usually take their place. But if there are no relatives then a new female will be reaped to participate. But this won't be any Quarter Quell, no. There will be a twist that's going to be revealed after the the reaping. I think it will make this Quarter Quell a most unforgettable one."

I let his words sink in... and when they do, I turn to stare at Haymitch, who's staring disbelievingly at the screen.

_I may or may not go back to the arena. But at least Katniss won't have to this time around._

Snow bids us goodnight and the television shuts off.

"That was… a lot of information to take in," Haymitch mumbles.

"Not only will he embarrass us by _forcing _us to attend that wedding, but it's going to be televised for all to see?" I seethe under my breath, closing my hands into fists.

"Come on, you didn't _really_ think you would be able to miss the wedding?"

"I had hoped," I sigh blearily.

"Looks like one of us is going back to the arena," he says after a moment of silence.

"I want it to be me, Haymitch."

"You're out of your mind," he laughs.

"I'm serious. Once Katniss marries that… man, there'll be nothing left for me," I whisper, shutting my eyes tightly. "Just try to get whoever they reap home, okay? Nothing will sting _him_ more than having three victors from the same district in a roll."

"Boy, you're getting completely ahead of yourself," he scoffs.

"You don't understand, Haymitch. I _love_ her. I know you must be thinking what a fool I am to throw my life away like this, but… it's what I want. Can't you respect that?" I plead, opening my eyes to look at him.

Haymitch's face looks strangely grey and he stares at me, lips pressed into a thin line.

"If you get reaped, I'll volunteer for you so no matter what it's me going in. I know you won't be able to see her much, but please… keep an eye on her. Make sure she's okay," I beseech him quietly.

"You are out of your ever loving mind…" he murmurs under his breath, shaking his head with incredulity. "But fine, I agree."

I nod tersely, licking my lips.

"Don't tell her what we just agreed upon. Like you said, if she cares about me - and I'm not sure what the extent of those feelings are - but I don't want her to worry any more than she absolutely has to. She has a lot on her plate as it is."

"She's going to find out anyway."

"That is true, but it will be better than having her fret about it for weeks on end."

My eyes sting with hot tears so I look down, hoping Haymitch doesn't notice.

"You're such a fool, boy. Yet… I can't help but admire that in you," he chuckles quietly. "I should have known you'd spring something like this on me."

I feel a corner of my lips rise but I still don't look at him.

"Yeah, I'm gallant as shit," I croak, laughing humorlessly.

Haymitch snickers and then sighs heavily.

"I wonder how the girl's doing," he muses.

"It's not unlikely that she's being strong, Haymitch."

"She's human too, kid."

"She's extraordinary."

"She's a pain in my ass," he sighs. "Along with this whole wedding fiasco."

"I'm just glad you'll be the one to give her away."

"I'd usually think that the sooner, the better. But I'm not so sure if that's the case in this situation."

"At least I'll be able to get drunk on free booze to obliterate the pain," I mumble darkly.

"Oh, joining the dark side, are you? So much for being the better one out of all of us," he smirks.

"I never said I was, _you_ did. Besides, haven't you always heckled me for not drinking? This'll be your one chance to be proud of me."

The smile slowly slides off his face as he surveys me.

"Kid... I've always been proud of you. Sure, you may not always be in the right state of mind when it comes to the girl. But other than that, you have your head screwed on right," he says, breaking contact before clearing his throat.

A knot grows in my throat as I watch him fidget in my couch.

_Why am I so surprised that he feels like this? He's not married and definitely doesn't have any children. Katniss and I are the closest thing he has to kids. Sure, he's a little rough around the edges but he (usually) means well and is there to offer advice._

I notice just how much more tired he looks and how his hair has gotten grayer these past months. Despite the booze paunch he has, he's even starting to look a little thinner.

_We're all we have left._

"Didn't know you had that side to you, Haymitch," I tease, grinning cheekily at him.

He rolls his eyes so deeply that for a moment I fear that they may remain that way. I decide to change the topic before I scare him off like I did Katniss.

"Anyway, I wonder what this _special treat_ will be about about. Wait a minute... _music to your ears.._."

Haymitch and I turn to each other, the same thought crossing through our heads.

"I'm surprised that Katniss offered her voice. She's always been so... dedicated to keeping that side of her private."

"You seriously think she was fine with that? Nah, I think she was coerced into it," he whispers, looking around suspiciously.

"I can definitely see that happening. As if the man wasn't loathsome enough…" I grit my teeth, feeling a fresh surge of hatred toward Snow.

"Nothing we can do about it now," he shrugs, standing up unsteadily.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get drunk," he nods, stepping over my feet.

"Haymitch…"

"Don't worry about me, kid. It's how I cope. See ya around," he grumbles, slouching away.

I lean back on the sofa and stare up at the textured ceiling.

_My days are practically numbered. I __**know**__ how I'd like to spend them, but there is zero chance of that happening. I'm not sad or scared to die, surprisingly enough. I just don't want Katniss to suffer. She's already been through enough… still, even if it were somehow possible for her to go into the arena again, I'd chase right after her._

The door bangs open, startling me out of my morbid musings. There she stands, out of breath as she stares at me with a heart wrenching expression on her face.

"You can't go in."

"What are you talking about?"

"You can't go back to the arena."

I give her tight-lipped smile and stand up, clasping my hands behind my back.

"How am I supposed to avoid that, Katniss? Even if I'm reaped, there'd be nothing I could do about it."

Her lips tremble so she looks away, as if to gather her wits. She sucks in a deep breath and turns to look at me once more, clenching her jaw tightly.

"So you won't volunteer for Haymitch?" she whispers.

A knot grows in my throat and I find that I can't reply to her rightly formed assumption.

"I was supposed to die, Katniss. Maybe this is just fate's way of balancing things out."

"But you didn't! You won, didn't you?" she says, her voice going up an octave.

"Like you said months ago, it was an accident."

"I was being a jerk," she scoffs, having the decency to look guilty.

"Well, it was the truth, wasn't it? I didn't kill anybody. I just… just…"

"Just what? You know I wasn't able to watch your Games. What happened, Peeta? What did you do?" she asks, closing the door and stepping closer to me.

I look away from her eyes and cross my arms tightly across my chest.

"When the gong sounded, I ran for it. I may have been a fair wrestler back in school but even I knew I wouldn't stand a fighting chance at the Cornucopia. I also knew that I wasn't going to win, but I wasn't about to disgrace District 12 so soon. The... Careers had wanted me to join their pack. Haymitch told me of their invitation but I promptly declined it, something I never regretted. According to them, I had 'shown promise' back in training," I grimace, feeling disgusted. "There were times when I'd stumble across the people that they'd killed. Of course, they weren't quite dead yet… all the better to make them suffer, right? So I waited with them, holding their hand and talking to them. If they had any supplies or weapons with them, I'd take them for myself. I always asked permission, of course, which seemed to confuse them. Anyway… when I wasn't doing that, I was in hiding. I didn't bother try to hunt because not only am I loud, I'm awful at it. I recognized some of the edible plants but didn't wholly trust myself to eat them. One wrong call and I'd be dead."

I take in a deep breath and tighten my arms around my body, feeling goosebumps rise all over.

"I was sure that I would either die of starvation or dehydration and was plenty surprised when I didn't. By the time I made it out of the cave I stayed in, there were only three of us left. So I went to look for the other two, hoping they'd make my death quick. But just as soon as I reached the cornucopia, the cannon sounded. There was only Octavius and me left. He turned to me, sword in hand and strode toward me. Though I noticed that whoever he killed put up a fight; Octavius was bleeding profusely and was even limping. His deranged smile never once left his face, so when he raised the sword to slash me, I felt a surge of _something_ go through me. It was like… I wasn't ready to go yet. There were only two of us left, yes, and while he may have been stronger than me at that point, we both stood equal chance of going home. So when he tried to slash me again, I kicked his wrist which made him lose grip of the sword. To my disbelief, we started to wrestle at that point. He was taller than me but he had also lost quite a bit of blood, so he was weak. Still, he was a worthy opponent. But then…"

"What happened, Peeta?" she whispers, taking a step closer to me.

I look up and remember that Katniss is here, in my home. I got so wrapped up in my story that I felt like I was back in the arena, reliving every second of those last hours.

"The Gamemakers decided to have a little fun then. They released mutts… long story short, I thought they would be my death when I turned to look at him. He looked… like a raw steak. He was bleeding all over, wheezing… I wasn't in such good shape myself, but he'd definitely gotten the worse end. I crawled to him and he could barely look at me. An hour passed… I never imagined a human body could hold so much blood. So I took his sword and… ended his suffering. The cannon sounded and I was proclaimed victor and passed out soon after. The next time I came to, I was back in the Capitol."

I let out a strangled breath and close my eyes tightly, recalling the vivid sounds and smells of the arena. Somebody wraps their arms around me and I struggle for a few seconds, feeling like I'm back in the arena and someone's trying to kill me. But I open my eyes I see Katniss looking up at me with those stormy eyes of hers. I stop and shudder, wrapping my own arms around her and crushing her to me. We stay like that for who knows for how long. All I know is that it feels like a part of me is put back together, if a little messily. We finally pull away and stare at each other, a dead look in her eyes that undoubtedly mirrors mine.

"Don't go back, Peeta," she pleads softly.

"I'm _not_ going to ask Haymitch to volunteer for me, Katniss," I tell her harshly. "Don't even think about asking him either because I'd never forgive you for it. He may have his imperfections, but Haymitch is the reason you stand here alive."

She looks down in shame and shuffles her feet uncomfortably.

"Besides, what makes you think I want to go back in?" I ask, hoping to take her off my trail. "I miraculously managed to not die once and I'd appreciate it greatly if they didn't send me back in again."

"I wish I could do something about it…"

"Don't you dare, Katniss. Your… fiancé wouldn't take it kindly to you asking to spare your district partners, now would he? I daresay he'd take it out on your family."

She winces and takes a step back, staring at me with surprise.

"It's the truth. Shouldn't you be getting ready to plan your wedding, anyway? And for the marvelous performance we're going to put on for Panem," I say, desperate for a change the topic.

"There's no way to get ready for either, especially when it'll be followed by the Quarter Quell," she murmurs, leaning against the wall.

"At least you'll be safe."

She looks up from the floor and glares at me.

"My safety has never been of much importance to me."

"But it matters to those who love you," I remind her gently.

Her expression softens and lets out a low sigh.

"But what about those _I _love? What then, Peeta?"

I look down, feeling as though I'm staring into the sun itself.

"They'll be safe enough when you marry Snow."

She groans in frustration and hits the wall with the back of her combat boot.

"What about your family?"

"What about them?"

"I'm sure they'd have something to say about—"

"Katniss… my family _may_ love me, but my death wouldn't be the end all, be all for them. They have their own lives to live and will resume no matter what happens. They've never particularly needed me," I shrug, looking up at her.

Tears shine in her eyes while her chin quivers.

"I do. _I_ need you, Peeta."

I stare at her, unable to believe what just escaped her lips.

"Please don't make this harder than it has to be, Katniss."

"I'm not—"

"Yes, you are! I resigned myself to going back in to the arena if my name's called but here you are, telling me that you need me… what is that? You kiss me and then tell me that it's wrong… I don't understand you, Katniss. I don't understand you one bit," I huff out in agitation.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too, Katniss."

We stare at each other in silence though I still feel a prickle of annoyance.

"Maybe I should go," she tells me quietly.

"Maybe you should."

She nods slowly and walks toward the door, looking at me once more before disappearing behind it. I close my eyes, feeling ridiculously weak.

_How did she guess that I would volunteer for Haymitch? Am I that predictable? Or is it… because she knows me?_

My heart warms at the thought.

_No, no… here I was, set on going in but she comes and tells me that she needs me. Could she just… she must be overwhelmed with everything that's going on. Yes, that must be it. To be honest, I haven't been much help to her. If anything, I always seem to make her predicaments worse._

I lean back against the wall, still staring at the door.

_She needs Gale. They're each a side of the same coin. She needs his strength, his support and his love. Because it's more than obvious that he loves her. He's probably much too proud to say anything now, though. Me, on the other hand…_

I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair, recalling the moment I told her that I love her after our heated kiss.

_Ain't too proud to beg, I guess. I'll take any scrap of Katniss' affection that I can get. Isn't that pitiful, Mellark? You're __**that**__ desperate for any bit of affection Katniss throws your way. Might as well take it while you can. After all, you don't have long to live._

I rub my eyes with the heel of my palm, feeling overwhelmed with emotions.

_Should I even bother telling my family that I'm going back into the arena? Would they even care? Perhaps only my dad, maybe Ryan…_

I realize that I haven't spent much time with my family, now that I think about it. We've had lunch a couple of times but the atmosphere's been so stiff and awkward both times.

An idea hits me so suddenly that I almost keel over from it.

_Gale, I should talk to Gale. No, it's not like he'll see Katniss after the Games start. But it wouldn't hurt, would it? I don't think he'll be happy to see him but I've got to talk to him. Tell him to make up with Katniss while he has time, before she leaves to never come back. Shit, Peeta. What makes you think he hasn't thought of the very same thing? What makes you think he's going to change his mind just because you suggest it? What an idiotic idea at best. But maybe I can get Haymitch in on it… I'll definitely need to talk to him first. He'll know what to do for sure._

I look up and see Octavius springing at me, sword ready in hand. I shout and fall to the floor, closing my eyes tightly and waiting for the death blow. Instead, all I can hear is the rapid beat of my heart and my breathing. Slowly, I open my eyes and see nothing hovering over me. I frown and realize that it was just in my head.

_Great, I'm going crazy now._

I sit up and take a deep breath, feeling my body sag tiredly.

_No, even if I go to bed, I know I won't be able to sleep. I'll just keep seeing all the dead tributes… and imagining what horrors they're preparing for us. Katniss was absolutely right. We may have won the Games, but that doesn't mean the game is over. It never ends for us. It's a nightmare that we never wake up from._

I stand up gingerly and make myself walk to the kitchen. I haven't eaten anything since the morning and my body's starting to take notice at the lack of fuel.

_But… because these are the last weeks of my life, shouldn't I make the best out of it? If Katniss wants to kiss me and tell me she needs me, shouldn't I just let her? Even if I know that she doesn't mean it deep down? Wouldn't I want to die with great memories of us? Knowing that I got a chance at what I thought was once untouchable to me?_

I stare transfixed at the fridge door.

"No, because I know it wouldn't be real," I speak out loud.

Tears sting my eyes but I do nothing to wipe them away as they leak out.

_Katniss may be able to fool me, but I'll never be able to fool myself._

-x-

I sprint over to Haymitch's house and burst through the door, easily ignoring the towering filth that has accumulated. I see him slumped in his favorite sofa and steel myself for what I'm about to ask of him.

_You heard what Peeta said! If it weren't for Haymitch, I wouldn't be alive... but maybe that'd be a good thing. If I weren't alive, then perhaps things wouldn't be so catastrophic. Perhaps Prim and Mother would be alive..._

"Haymitch."

He looks up at me from his flask with a twisted smile on his face.

"Ah, hello there sweetheart. What brings you to my humble abode this fine evening?" he warbles.

I almost roll my eyes at him but decide that it wouldn't do me any favors to be rude to him. So instead I sit on the cluttered coffee table and look him straight in the eye. This seems to sober him up slightly but he doesn't say anything more.

"You saw his announcement."

"Who didn't? It was broadcast all over Panem, sweetheart."

I frown at him but hold my tongue.

"You can't let him go back in, Haymitch," I whisper.

He doesn't look the least bit shocked at my words; as a matter of fact, he's even sort of smiling.

"I knew you'd come and tell me that. I suppose that you, too, are predictable in your own way," he mumbles, peering into his seemingly empty flask.

That last bit puzzles me but I don't dwell on it. I have more important things to worry about.

"So what? You want me to volunteer for him?" he asks sarcastically.

_'Don't even think about asking him either because I'd never forgive you for it.'_

"Yes."

"And _why_ would I do this?"

"Because if he goes in... there's no way he coming back out again," I whisper. "Don't get me wrong, he's strong and smart and handsome; everything a victor ought to be. But there's no way _he's_ going to let him win again."

Haymitch swallows loudly and chucks his flask aside before rising.

"What makes you think I'd win?" he asks, rifling through bottles for more liquor.

"I don't," I whisper ruefully.

He straightens up and smirks, opening a new bottle before taking a long drink from it.

"So you're asking me to give my life in exchange for his."

My shame threatens to swallow me whole and all I can do is stay quiet.

"I know what you must be thinking: '_He's old. He has nobody. He's bitter and an alcoholic. Besides, how much life could he really have left?'_"

I look down because I had indeed thought those things previously.

"While I'd heartily agree with you, sweetheart, there's just one flaw in your brilliant plan."

"What's that?" I rasp out, still avoiding those keen gray eyes.

"Once the boy puts his mind to something, why, he can be just as stubborn as _you_ sweetheart."

This catches my attention and the implication of it is hidden in Haymitch's carefully chosen words.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask slowly, looking up at him.

"I think you know what it means," he sighs tiredly, breaking eye contact and guzzling more liquor.

"Haymitch, you have to do something. We can't just let him throw his life away like that!" I tell him urgently, standing to my feet.

"I know, girl. I'll think of something, don't you worry. But for now, you should be more afraid of what's to come for _you_."

I scoff and shake my head, looking up at the bright light.

"I stopped caring when Prim was taken from me. Having Peeta in my life for a few precious months was nice, but I've done enough damage to him as it is. I've dug my grave; all that's left to do is for me to lie in it," I say grimly. "I couldn't save Prim or my Mother but you can bet that I'll save him, Haymitch. Even if it's the last thing I do."

Haymitch stares at me solemnly, his chin dripping with alcohol.

I take a few steps back and glance around the room.

"You should really clean up in here, Haymitch. It's starting to smell even more disgusting than usual. You've had better days too," I smirk dishearteningly.

Not waiting for a response, I dash for the door and rest my forehead on it once I'm outside.

_I'm so sorry, Haymitch. How ungrateful did I just come across to you? Peeta will never forgive me if he finds out about this... but then again, there's no good reason why he should. I doubt you'd tell on me... or at least I hope you won't. We're all we have left and I just asked you to give your life up so Peeta can live. __How awful is that? Maybe I **do** deserve everything that's happening to me... no, no. Still, it'd be between the two of you even if I were reaped too. I wonder what poor girl is going to get reaped. I'm glad Posy isn't old enough because I know for sure Snow wouldn't hesitate to throw her in there. Oh, god... what did he say about a twist? What if the twist is lowering the age limit? Oh, no. No, no, no. _

I look toward the direction of the Seam and picture Posy snuggled up with Hazelle.

_What have I done? How many more lives will he destroy before he's sated? No, you can't be sure about that Katniss. Besides, didn't he promise not to touch the Hawthornes? He's definitely a man of his word and I haven't done anything to earn punishment. I need to calm down... this whole third Quarter Quell is stretching my nerves to their limit._

I look at Peeta's house and see that the light is on in his kitchen. A ghost of a smile caresses my lips as I stare.

_Some things never change._

* * *

Thank you so much for reading! Happy holidays. :)


	12. Chapter 12

I hope everybody had a Merry Christmas! I'm updating early since it's my birthday and I'll probably be indisposed tonight and tomorrow... so here it is. My gift from me to you. :P

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

I cautiously walk into the Seam, trying to ignore the dark eyes that peer at me curiously from windows and doorways.

_What must they think to see me walking in here? Despite winning, I feel like I haven't done anything for them; of course, the extra ration of food they received as a result of my winning must have been welcomed. But other than that, what have I done for them?_

I look at their coal-coated huts and their broken-down roofs and feel remorse when I think of my home back in Victor's Village.

_Life isn't fair, Peeta. Especially with someone like Snow ruling over us._

I try to make eye contact but their gazes soon skitter away. I give them a semblance of a smile and continue on my way. The gravel crunches under my feet and the smell of coal is even stronger here; which makes sense, I'd bet that the majority of the workers down at the mines live here in the Seam.

I finally spot him puttering around their small front yard, he has his back to me. If he hears me, he makes no show of it. I'm about five feet away when he finally straightens up though he doesn't turn around.

"Mellark," he says as greeting.

"Hello Gale," I say, wrapping my arms tighter around the bundle of bread in my arms.

"What brings you here? You're a far way from Victor's Village or town."

"Gale, we need to talk."

He turns around hesitantly, his dark brows drawn together.

"I'd really rather not," he murmurs.

"I can see that. But it's of the essence that we do. It has to do with Katniss."

"Doesn't it always?" he sighs under his breath.

"She loves you," I tell him outright.

He pauses before looking at look me in the eye.

"What?"

"That day you stormed into her house… after your fight, I realized that she loves you. I've never seen anybody so sad…" I say, feeling strangely tongue-tied. "We kissed. Not that day, of course. But after stupidly blurting out that I love her she told me that it was wrong."

"You kissed her?" he frowns.

"Technically, she kissed me," I mumble, clearing my throat and looking away from the steely look I've come to know so well in another pair of eyes.

His expression slackens though his lips tighten up in… anger?

"She doesn't love me," he finally whispers, looking away from me with a worn look on his face.

"I beg to differ."

"If she loved me, there's no way that she would have accepted marrying him."

"Gale, you don't understand. She had no choice in the matter. I'm positive he threatened to hurt you and your family so she could say yes. Even if you two could have developed something, it's not like the two of you could have ridden off into the sunset. Most of Panem believes you to be cousins," I tell him gently. "If the two of you had suddenly disappeared, I'm sure people would have suspected something."

"I know, Mellark," he snaps, glaring at me from the corner of his eyes.

"If I could have chosen anybody for her, it would have been you. I know she would have been safe and loved with you. Especially…"

He turns to look at me curiously, narrowing his eyes.

"You're going back."

I nod, looking away from the familiar grey eyes.

"It's going to kill her."

The statement startles me so that I have no choice but to look at him.

"What?"

"She…" he trails off, clearly struggling to speak his mind. "She obviously cares for you… loves you. She loves you."

It takes a lot for me to not roll my eyes at his statement.

"Gale…"

"Don't 'Gale' me, Mellark. If you weren't so… difficult to hate, this would probably be so much easier for me," he murmurs under his breath. "But you're not a bastard and while a prominent part of me wishes you were, the smaller part of me is thankful that you aren't."

I stare at him, unable to believe what I'm hearing.

"I know Katniss loves me. But it's not the way I want her to love me. She's always seen me as an older brother of sorts or maybe a paternal figure. But not once have her eyes lingered on me or has she ever made a move. Not that she would if she could, anyway," he chuckles, shaking his head. "I just never sensed any interest. Maybe a part of me was hoping that she would just see me in a new light someday, I don't know. But… not once has she looked at me the way she looks at you."

I swallow, feeling transfixed by his words.

"If there's anybody _I _could have chosen for her, it would have been you."

I close my eyes and shake my head, refusing to believe him.

"You grew on her, Mellark and once you're in… you're there forever."

"I can't…"

"Are you really going to give up so easily?"

My eyes pop open and I can't help but scowl at him.

"She's going to get _married_, Gale. Oh, but it's not just any old marriage, no. She's going to marry the _president_ of Panem; the most powerful man ever. The odds of me surviving an attack of his are slim to none. I barely got out of the first arena, there's no way I'd get so lucky again. This brings me to the reason why I'm here. I need you to make up with her, Gale. I need you to be there for her when I won't be able to. I need you to comfort her, love her and be everything she needs when my body comes back," I whisper intensely. "Should the day ever come, I need you to stand by her side."

His brows knit together as he slowly realizes what I'm talking about. Maybe someday in the future, the Districts will revolt against Snow and that will be everybody's chance to overthrow his regime. You can bet that Katniss will be at the front and center of that revolution, wanting for Snow to pay back for all of the evil deeds he's committed.

He shakes his head in slight confusion and spears me with his dark gaze.

"That won't stop the grief that'll take over her. Katniss has always resented her mother for blacking out when her father died, but I suspect they have much more in common than she'd like," he tells me quietly. "First he takes away her father, mother and Prim… then you. Who knows if it would be something that she could come back from."

"Don't say that, Gale…" I whisper, looking down and feeling bizarrely guilty at having a hand in her theoretical demise. "She's strong."

"She is strong, but everybody has a breaking point," he shrugs uncomfortably.

"Look, Gale… just… let her know you're there for her. That's all I'm asking for."

He remains quiet for minutes before finally nodding.

"I'll go and see her in a bit."

"Thank you," I sigh with immense relief.

He makes a noncommittal gesture and I hand him the burlap bag filled with bread. He hesitates before reaching out and looks at me questioningly.

"The least I can do for you," I shrug.

He gives me a curt nod and tucks the bag under his arm.

"Thanks, Mellark," he rasps out.

"No, thank _you_ Gale," I whisper significantly.

His lips tighten into a thin line once more and I give him a brief smile before turning around and going back home. Just as I step foot into Victor's Village I catch sight of Katniss pacing frantically as Haymitch watches her lazily. She finally hears my tread and stops dead in her tracks, an expression of utmost fear in her face. My heart grows cold and I hasten to them, already knowing what she's going to say.

"We're going back. Today," she whispers, gripping my arms tightly.

"I figured. I'm guessing you're all packed?"

"What? No…" she answers, looking perplexed. "Cinna will be here earlier to pack… all of my things away."

"I guess all I need is my best suit," I joke weakly.

Her eyes flutter to a close for a few seconds before licking her lips.

"This is probably one of the last few moments we'll be able to have together," she tells me quietly.

Horror and sadness swell in me but I somehow manage to give her a bright smile.

"Then let's make every moment count," I say, raising a trembling hand to brush wisps of her hair back.

"Peeta, I—"

"Katniss."

His voice shakes me out of my head and so I drop my hand and turn to look at him. His eyes never once leave her face but I can almost feel as if he's talking to me as well.

"Gale," she whispers, sounding stunned. "I didn't think…"

"Can I have a few words with you?"

"Yes… yes," she nods, stepping away from me to walk to him.

But before she reaches him, she turns to look back at me with a strained expression.

"It's fine, go on ahead," I smile, waving them away.

She gives me a nod before engulfing Gale in a hug. Strangely enough, there's no jealousy or resentment in me as I watch it. Instead, it just makes me sad at what could have been between them. I go and sit next to Haymitch, who keeps his eyes on me.

"Yup, definitely the better one out of all of us," he rasps.

"I had to do it," I tell him in a low voice. "I couldn't leave them…"

"Boy, it wasn't your fault to begin with," he tells me exasperatedly.

"I know, Haymitch. I know. But I was _there_ and I felt like I had to do something about it," I shrug.

"You're too noble for your own good, kid," he grumbles, shaking his head.

I can't help but chuckle at his tone.

"You make it sound like it's a _bad _thing," I joke.

"Sometimes it is," he answers darkly, looking off into the horizon.

About half an hour passes before Katniss comes back with a dazed look on her face. Her eyes are red and swollen and it's evident she's been crying.

_What did you tell her, Gale? I guess I'll never know though I can only imagine._

She comes and squeezes herself between Haymitch and me, sniffling as quietly and dignified as she can.

"So who called?" I ask, hoping to ease her pain even the slightest bit.

"Effie. She said that the wedding invitations had been sent out a couple of days ago and that _everybody who is anybody_ sent in their R.S.V.P. immediately."

I can't help but chuckle.

"That sounds like Effie alright."

"She also said that Snow invited fellow victors, so, you know, I could have friendly faces surrounding me," she says bitterly.

"Certainly more friendly than you," Haymitch quips.

She ignores this and buries her face into her hands.

"How will I go through with this?"

"Just like you've gone through everything, Katniss," I tell her honestly. "It'll be tough but you'll come out even stronger."

She shakes her head vigorously, cupping her face even tighter.

"Katniss," I tell her softly. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

"I don't want to be stronger. I don't want to be _anything. _I'm tired, Peeta. I'm tired of pretending," she gulps loudly, her body sagging against mine.

"It'll be over soon, Katniss," I assure her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"It's not the ending I had in mind."

"I don't think any one of us did," I sigh softly, looking up at the deceptionally blue sky.

Haymitch reaches over and pats her knee comfortingly and we stay like that for a long time.

Inspiration suddenly strikes me and I ask Haymitch for the time.

"Great, that leaves just enough time..." I mumble, standing up.

"For what?" Katniss asks, straightening up and watching me inquisitively.

"Katniss, can you do me a favor?"

She gives me a queer little smile and nods her yes.

"Yes, what can I do for you?"

"I need you to go into town and buy as much candy as possible. I'll pay you back," I add quickly.

She shakes her head, making her thick braid swing over her shoulder.

"Peeta, there's no need for that," she scolds, making a face at me.

"Thank you, Katniss," I tell her softly.

She swallows visibly and nods jerkily before turning away.

"I'll go right now," she mumbles, patting down her pockets before sprinting away.

Haymitch snickers quietly in the back so I turn to frown at him.

"That girl is so awkward, I don't know how she's made it through life dealing with men," he shakes his head.

"Haymitch, could I use your oven?" I ask him impatiently.

He gives me a calculating look before nodding.

"Sure kid, knock yourself out. Anything else you want me to do? Help you make bread, perhaps?"

I laugh and roll my eyes.

"Sure, Haymitch, you can help me bake," I chuckle.

"I'd probably end up burning your precious loaves," he smirks.

"That would not be good or helpful," I say under my breath, heading toward my house.

So I take out as many ingredients as I can, intending to make every single type of bread as possible. I measure and knead quickly, feeling as though there is a clock ticking away. I finally hear Katniss once I put the first batch of loaves in the oven and smile when she sticks her head into my kitchen.

"Hey you," I say, gesturing for her to come in.

She smiles and watches me quietly.

"Are you doing what I think you're doing?"

"I don't know, what _do_ you think I'm doing?" I tease, flashing a grin up at her.

She stares at me blankly for a few seconds before looking down at my hands, color rising in her face.

"I, um... well, you're baking, obviously."

"Obviously," I laugh.

"You're doing something that will endear you to the children of the Seam. They'll likely never forget this," she says quietly.

"That's the plan," I smile up at her.

She watches me intently, a tiny wrinkle appearing between her brows.

"Why?" she demands.

_Uh-oh. She's onto me._

"I haven't done anything for them, Katniss," I tell her simply.

"Peeta, there isn't much you can do for them," she says, biting her lip in shame.

"But giving them baked goods is. So I'll do it now before... before the reaping. I'm sure I won't have any time after the wedding. So, even though I'm rushing, this is the perfect time," I say, hoping she buys it.

She stares at me for a few more seconds before nodding.

"You're right. I don't know why it didn't occur to me to do something like this. I suppose I could have hunted game for them..." she trails off.

"I did hear you were quite generous at the Hob," I say.

"You did?" she asks, taken aback.

"Sure, Madge told me."

She laughs breathily but says nothing.

"Can you go and make sure that Haymitch's oven is turned on? I don't want him accidentally shutting himself in the thing," I joke morbidly.

"Yes, I'll do that. I'll be back," she says dutifully, ghosting from my kitchen.

I slump against the counter, letting out a tense breath.

_I need to be more careful with what I say. One slip and she'll catch on._

"He turned it on, he said he's just waiting for you to take the loaves. He also said he couldn't promise that all the loaves would be there when they finished baking," she says, rolling her eyes.

"Like Haymitch has ever been desperate for a loaf of bread!" I laugh, taking hold of the pan with the loaves lined up.

"That's what I told him. But he said that he's long past taking your bread for granted," she smirks, following me to his house.

"So, I heard that you've suddenly got a taste for my bread," I joke, shutting the over door.

"What can I say, kid? It's the best bread in town. I'm not sure if you're expecting me to keep an eye on it, though. I'd probably take the bread out too late and it'd be burned to a crisp."

"Haymitch, what are you talking about? Mellark bread is the _only_ bread in town," Katniss snorts, leaning against the doorway.

"Ah, is it? I don't make it out to town much," he murmurs, glancing at the empty bottles of liquor.

"Don't worry, Haymitch. I've set a timer on it so the oven shuts off automatically. No need to worry your pretty little head with time," I quip.

He frowns and crosses his arms unhappily.

"Anyway, thanks. I'll be getting back to my kitchen now. Just holler at me when the oven dings."

"No problem, kid."

I salute him and make my way out of his house. On the way back to mine, I notice the wheelbarrow full of bags of assorted candy. I stop short and turn to Katniss.

"What?" she asks, stroking her braid nervously.

"That's... a lot more than I had in mind. Thank you, Katniss," I smile.

Her cheeks turn red and she looks away shyly.

"Just doing my bit," she murmurs.

While I want nothing more than to stay here and stare at her, I know that I've got to go back and finish the last batches of loaves.

"Is there anything else you'd like for me to do?"

"No, but thank you. You've done more than enough."

"I doubt it," she whispers.

"Why don't you keep me company?" I suggest, opening the front door of my house.

"I'd like that," she nods.

I gesture for her to walk in and she does so with a smile; I follow after her and watch how her braid swings from side to side.

"So how many loaves are you planning on baking next?"

"As much as I'm allowed. I've probably got enough flour for a dozen."

"That's a lot."

"Well, I'm just doing my bit," I grin at her.

She laughs and sits down on one of the chairs near the counter.

"I bet you could do this with your eyes closed," she says.

"That's very flattering," I murmur coyly, feeling heat rise to my face.

"Anybody who's ever seen you at it would probably think so too," she shrugs.

"Just like you could hunt with your eyes closed?" I counter.

Her face breaks into a wide grin and it's like watching the sun break over the clouds.

"Probably. Never tried it, though. It seems somewhat frivolous. I only hunted because we needed to eat. I'm not so sure I'd do it for sport. Gale always said..." she trails off, eyes widening at the mention of him.

I look up at her and watch her patiently.

"I'm sorry..."

"Why are you apologizing to me?" I chuckle. "I'm not the one he had a fight with."

"No, you weren't," she says seriously. "I know it was you."

"It was me what?" I ask aloofly.

"That somehow convinced him to come see me."

"Why would I do that?" I laugh quietly, as though she's out of her mind.

"You tell me."

"I'm not sure what you mean," I chuckle, forming the loaves and trying to look as concentrated as possible in the task.

She remains quiet but I can feel her watching me and it unnerves me, but I'm not going to give in.

"Never in a hundred years would Gale have come to apologize to me; he's far too stubborn for that."

"So you assume it was me who had a chat with him?"

"It seems like something you'd do, Peeta."

"Has it occurred to you that it might have been Haymitch? Gale has never seemed particularly fond of me," I smile wryly.

"Maybe..."

"But I'm sure if you'd ask Haymitch, he'd just deny it."

"Like you did," she points out.

I put the loaves in the oven and turn around, giving her an innocent smile.

"Katniss, what would I gain from lying to you? Besides, you know that Haymitch would move the moon and stars for you despite the usual grumpy state he's in."

I can almost hear her think '_As would you, Peeta'_ but know that never in a thousand years would she acknowledge it.

"Also, why in the world would Gale listen to me? It seems more likely that he'd follow Haymitch's advice rather than mine seeing as he's older and more experienced. Not to mention the fact that you two are far more similar than either of you would admit."

She narrows her eyes at me and crosses her arms.

"We are not!" she cries.

"You are to," I chuckle. "As a matter of fact, I'm sure that's what he would say."

Katniss glares at me and pooches her lower lip out, an action I find adorable.

"Actually... he could pass off as family too. An uncle perhaps," I smile, tilting my head and observing her.

Her face grows redder and she glowers at me.

"Just because we're from the Seam doesn't mean we all look alike!"

"Katniss, calm down."

"Well, I'm sorry we are from the poor side of District 12. Not all of us were born with sunshine blonde hair and eyes the color of the spring sky!" she huffs agitatedly.

I push myself from the edge of the sink and go to Katniss, who looks like she's about to stroke out.

"Katniss, I didn't mean anything bad by it," I tell her soothingly, pressing my hands on her shoulders.

Her eyes are dark and crackling with bottled up emotions.

"You should be more than aware by now just how beautiful I think you are. Your hair, your eyes, your skin... everything," I whisper, squeezing her shoulders gently.

She relaxes slightly under my touch and her scowl soon disappears.

"Besides, I know at least one person who was from the Seam and had beautiful blonde hair and blue eyes," I tell her meaningfully.

Her eyes widen for a second as she realizes who I'm referring to.

_Oh, no... I've just reminded her of her sister. Stupid Peeta!_

But instead of sobbing into her hands, the corners of her mouth quirk up into a smile.

"She did have beautiful hair. How she loved to have it petted and brushed," she whispers fondly. "I used to joke with her that she was probably a golden cat in another life."

I smile and chuckle softly.

"I remember my amazement with her when I first held her. I recall turning to Dad and asking why she was so pink and hairless," she laughs, her eyes growing glassy. "I don't exactly remember what he answer but I _do_ remember coming up with an explanation of my own."

"And what was that?"

"Because she was born in the morning, the sunlight was the first thing that touched her head. Therefore, her hair was gold. As for her eyes, the sky was the first thing they sought and in turn became blue," she says, closing her eyes as if in remembrance.

"That was very sweet," I tell her genuinely.

She opens her eyes and they seek mine desperately.

"I miss her, Peeta," she whimpers.

"I'm sorry, Katniss," I whisper to her, closing the small distance between us and hugging her.

I think it stuns her because she remains frozen in my arms for a few seconds before she envelops her arms around me.

"She was taken from me, Peeta. She was taken from me far too early," she sighs, clinging to me. "They've taken everything I have ever loved."

"I'm so sorry, Katniss," I repeat wholeheartedly, heart clenching with anger and sadness for her losses.

"Nothing I can do now," she says, sounding defeated.

"Yes, there is something you can do," I tell her, pulling away to look at her.

"What?"

"You can continue being strong, being a survivor," I say, shaking her gently. "It's one of the things you're best at."

She shakes her head and I can almost feel her crumbling beneath my hands.

"Yes, yes you can. If not for you, do it for them, Katniss. They'd want you to continue being strong and would hate to see you succumb to desolation."

Her lips part slightly as if to speak but then closes them tightly.

"And although your life with him won't be a happy one, you've got to make the best out of it. You were given a second chance at life when you won the Games, Katniss. You need to take advantage of that. I know it's not the life you probably had in mind, but it's what you were given. I'd give anything to —"

A dry knot grows in my throat and I'm rendered quiet.

"You were given a second chance too," she says, frowning slightly.

"Katniss, if you think there's a chance my name isn't picked then I think you're out of your mind," I chuckle humorlessly.

"Peeta, the odds—"

"—are not in my favor, not this time. Maybe I could have stood a chance had I not interfered between you and that man back in the garden. Maybe my chance would have been greater had I not spoken to Snow as I did... but I'd much rather do that over again than not stick up for you."

She swallows loudly and her eyes stare at me, stunned.

"You... what? I..." she shakes her head, seemingly confused. "I'm sorry, Peeta, but it was foolish of you."

"Foolish or not, I deemed it the right thing to do," I shrug.

She continues to stare at me as if she's never seen me before and all I can do is look back at her patiently.

"Why must you always do that, Peeta? Why are you so good?" she whispers, looking as though she's in deep pain.

"There's no other way for me, Katniss," I tell her simply.

"Of course not," she sighs, giving her head a shake.

"KID, THE BREAD IS READY!"

We both jump apart at Haymitch's voice and look away.

"I guess I better go before he takes one for himself," I mutter under my breath. "Keep an eye on these, will you?"

She nods wordlessly and I make my way out of the kitchen before I say something else.

_Lord, that was intense._

I thank Haymitch for letting me use his oven and make my way back to my own kitchen. To my non-surprise, Katniss is no longer there. I see that the window is opened and conclude she made her exit through there. I can't help but smile as I arrange the loaves into a giant burlap sack and peer into the oven.

"Shouldn't be longer," I muse out loud.

The timer finally rings and so I take the loaves out, letting them cool on the counter. Meanwhile, I rifle through my cupboard for cans of food; vegetables, fruit, meat... I don't judge. I stuff those in another bag and finally put the last dozen of bread in with their doughy brothers and sisters. I manage to hold it in my arms and carefully set it atop the candy in the wheelbarrow but then and go back for the bag full of cans.

I take hold of the wheelbarrow handles and carefully make my way through the gravel, hoping I don't trip or that the wheelbarrow doesn't tip over. I've barely stepped foot outside Victor's Village when I hear that I'm being accompanied. I smile even though we all remain quiet as we journey towards the Seam.

Once we arrive, curious eyes watch us again and I motion for them to come out. Slowly but surely, the scent of the fresh bread lures them out and watch us carefully, as though we're going to disappear at any given second.

"Come on, don't be shy," I tell the children, smiling at them.

They look into the wheelbarrow and watch how their eyes light up when they see the candy and bread. Soon, they're calling for their parents and friends, telling them excitedly that 'the victor from the bakery' brought goodies.

There's a small crowd surrounding us and I feel as though I should say something.

"They'll be taking us to the Capitol tonight for the upcoming wedding feast. It hardly seemed fair to me that none of you would get to participate in that so I've brought you this, along with cans of food for a feast of your own. I can only hope you enjoy as much as I enjoyed baking the bread," I smile, pressing my hand over my heart.

The children begin to cheer and the adults smile.

"It's not something they see often," Katniss whispers in my ear.

I turn to smile at her and then at the children.

"Please, this is all yours. Be my guest," I tell them, gesturing to the wheelbarrow.

The children dig into the candy but it's the mothers who come for the bread. They all smile gratefully at me, blessing me and thanking me for my kindness. I also hand out the cans of food to them and stare at them in disbelief. Realistically I know it won't help much but it's the thought that counts, right? I'd feel so wrong being surrounded by so much food while they don't have much in their own cupboards.

When everything is dispersed, the Seam is ringing with laughter and happiness.

Even Haymitch is smiling, watching the children with a wistful look on his face.

"You did good, Peeta," Katniss grins at me, glancing at the children. "I've never heard such sounds for as long as I've lived."

"Everybody deserves this, Katniss. Even if it's fleeting... it's the memory that will be treasured."

She looks at me thoughtfully for a few seconds but slowly her expression changes; it grows from puzzled to startled until it settles on aware. Then she looks at me in a way she's looked at me before and it makes my heart pound faster, making me feel strangely lightheaded and giddy.

_Katniss was right, I'll never forget this moment._

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Thanks for reading! As always, I appreciate the follows, reviews and favoriting. :)


	13. Chapter 13

Hello everybody! First off, I'd like to wish everybody a happy new year. May the new year bring you health, happiness and whatever else it is you desire.

Secondly, thanks for the continued support for this story, I truly appreciate it.

With further ado...

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

The day

Rania lightly dabs makeup under my eyes, her thin lips pursed in concentration.

"I can understand if you couldn't sleep, Peeta, but that's no reason to have such dark circles under your eyes!" she chides me gently. "Still, you're going to look so handsome that it hardly matters."

"Thanks, Rania," I say, mustering a smile for her benefit.

My other two stylists, Fadia and Arcturus, are each working on my nails and hair respectively. I've yet to see Portia but I assume she'll be dropping by soon with my suit. So I'm currently in my room at Snow's mansion, sitting in my robe and literally being served hand and foot.

"Are you excited, Peeta?" Fadia asks, keeping her hazel eyes meticulously trained on my hair as she gels it down.

"Oh, yeah. A wedding. Who doesn't love those?" I say, trying to sound the least sarcastic as possible.

_Lord, I'm starting to sound like Haymitch._

"Exactly! The parties the President hosted for you were lavish enough, I can't wait to see what he's prepared for his own wedding," Arcturus says with a low whistle, applying a thin coat of clear polish on my nails.

"This will be the party of the century!" Rania giggles, taking a step back to scrutinize her work. "_Now_ you look as if you've been getting a full night's sleep. Are you two almost done? Portia said she would be coming by soon with his suit."

"Yes, all done," Fadia and Arcturus reply together, which causes them to titter.

Portia strolls in through the door with a black garment bag over her arm, giving me a big smile. The trio nods their heads and her and scurry out, murmuring excitedly.

"So, Peeta, how are you feeling?" she asks, setting down the bag on the bed.

"Would you like the victor Peeta answer or my honest answer?"

"Honesty, as always."

"I feel like hell, Portia… and it's not even me the one who's being forced to get married," I whisper, closing my eyes wearily. "I didn't sleep a wink last night. Not that I've been able to sleep well prior to last night."

I hear her sigh and open my eyes, her warm brown eyes watching me sympathetically.

"I'm sorry, Peeta. Anybody can see how much you love her."

"I'm not so sure that's a good thing," I mumble under my breath.

"You wouldn't be _you_ if you didn't," she tells me softly.

"I'm not so sure I want to be me right now," I scoff.

She spears me a gaze of disapproval before reaching out to the garment bag and unzipping it.

"Yet another black suit, why am I not surprised?"

"It's not just _any_ old suit, Peeta," she says, clicking her tongue. "It's a black tie suit."

I stare at her blankly, having no idea what she's talking about.

"There are more elements to a suit that is worn to a black tie affair than there is to your standard suit," she smiles patiently.

"Oh, such as?"

"Traditionally, suspenders along with a cummerbund or waistcoat are worn. Along with the suit and bow, of course," she adds, motioning for me to get up.

"That sounds like an awful lot of trouble for something that won't be seen under my jacket," I chuckle, standing up and stretching.

"Well, Peeta, we are nothing if not traditional. Besides, it's my job to help you look your best. I'm not sure who'd look worse if you didn't: you or me."

"Well, I wouldn't want you to look bad, Portia. Especially when you've gone above and beyond for me," I tell her, giving her a genuine smile.

She pats my cheek affectionately before looking at me up and down, approval written in her face.

"Looks like the trio did a good job."

"They always do, Portia. I'm really very thankful for them. I'm sure I would have scared everybody with the purple splotches under my eyes," I joke.

She chuckles softly, reaching for the black trousers.

She dresses me carefully, dusting off imaginary lint from my shoulders and making sure there is no wrinkle in sight. Never before in my life had I worn suspenders but I must admit I like the look of them; I find that they make me look more mature. I finally look at myself in the mirror and despite looking incredible thanks to Portia and the trio, there is a dead look in my eyes that can't quite be ignored.

"As good as it's gonna get," I joke, flashing a smile at Portia.

"Well, Peeta, I'm off to see if Cinna needs any extra hands. I'll see you later, Peeta."

"You were invited to the wedding of the century?" I ask, mildly surprised.

"Why, yes, I was. I _am_ the stylist of the latest Hunger Games victor, after all," she smirks, waving at me and closing the door behind her.

I don't want to tempt fate and wrinkle my suit, so I remain pace around the room. When it feels like I'm going to burn a path into the carpet, Haymitch enters my room unceremoniously.

"Hey kid, how's it going?"

"I've been better. How are you?"

"About the same. Just want to get out of this monkey suit," he grunts, shrugging his shoulders uneasily.

I chuckle and look at him up and down.

"I've gotta admit, you're looking pretty sharp," I wink, grinning when he rolls his eyes.

"Trinket blackmailed me into putting it on," he grumbles, patting his coat.

"I wonder what _she's_ wearing," I muse curiously.

He snorts but smirks, whipping his beloved flask out.

"You'll see her soon enough."

He takes a careful swig from the flask and smacks his lips, stretching out his hand to offer it to me.

"You'll need it, kid. You look like hell. No offense," he grins.

I make a face at him before impolitely snatching it from his hand. He just looks on with glee, going as far as rubbing his hands together.

"So it begins," he cackles as I raise the flask to my lips.

I take a long sip but don't bother tasting the liquor and swallowing it back instead. I make a face and groan as it burns down my throat and esophagus.

"About damn time, boy," he says, sounding proud.

"Sorry, Haymitch. Not a big fan of alcohol," I grimace, handing the flask back to him. "What _is_ it?"

"Whisky."

"It's strong," I cough.

"I've had stronger," he giggles, patting his pocket.

"Good lord," I murmur.

"Anyway, even the girl's gotten drunk with me."

This surprises me.

"She has?"

"Sure, the night—" he stops himself and looks away too casually.

"'The night' what?" I prompt.

He lets out a long sigh and turns to look back at me.

"The night you were reaped. Got drunk as a skunk," he chortles softly.

My head feels a little light after drinking Haymitch's whisky but his words send an arrow through my heart.

"Well, don't think this is going to happen on a regular basis. I'm only doing this because I'm just bracing myself for what will undoubtedly be the worst day in my life."

Haymitch opens his mouth to reply but a knock interrupts. Effie pokes her head into the doorway and grins at us.

"Goodie, you're ready! Everybody has started to make their way to the gardens and I'd appreciate it if you did too. Don't sit down quite yet though, people will be socializing and I'm sure you wouldn't want to miss out mingling with your fellow victors, Peeta!" she chirps before disappearing.

Haymitch and I glance at each other before walking to the door.

"What was that on her head?" I whisper.

He snickers and shakes his head.

"Her new wig and… accoutrements," he says, clapping a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter.

We finally reach the outside part of the garden (since the garden itself it is closed) but have to take the outside path since the ballroom is also closed, naturally. Haymitch seems to spot an old friend because he yells out "old man" before getting lost in the crowd. I just stand near the sidelines, feeling incredibly stupid yet thankful that nobody's approached me yet; I'm not feeling particularly chatty.

"Peeta Mellark, it's good to see you again."

I turn towards the voice and smile genuinely when I see Finnick Odair approaching me. He's dressed all in black, looking striking as usual.

"Finnick Odair, what a pleasure," I grin, stretching my hand out.

"A shame we had to meet under such circumstances," he says, startling me slightly.

_Shouldn't he know better than to spout such things?_

Still, it pleases me that someone else is also against this wedding.

He takes it in his, shaking firmly before pulling away and standing next to me.

"How's it going, Peeta?"

"Can't complain," I chuckle humorlessly. "What about you?"

"I've been thriving," he nods, his bronze hair flopping suavely into his face.

"Finn! Finn!" a woman's voice cries for him.

His head snaps toward it and his face breaks into a smile once he spots to whom it belongs to.

_An admirer, perhaps?_

"Jo!"

"Finn! _Excuse me_," I hear the woman say pointedly.

Feeling rather curious, I search for the woman and feel surprised to see none other than Johanna Mason, one of the female victors from District 7. She stomps over to us, a deep wrinkle formed between her dark eyebrows. She heaves a sigh of annoyance but soon that's replaced by a smile when she lays eyes on Finnick again. They give each other a quick but affectionate hug before she turns to me.

"Peeta Mellark, such a shame that we didn't have much of a chance to chat back in your Victory tour… but here we are. You clean up even better," she winks before bursting into snickers.

I honestly don't know how to answer to that so instead I smile politely.

"You look rather nice too, Johanna."

And she really does. She's wearing a long and black beaded dress, the black transparent sleeves embroidered with beads as well. The dress has a low cut neckline but there's nothing racy showing since she's not particularly endowed. Still, she pulls off the dress magnificently. As per the custom of a female victor at a Capitol party, her neck and ears seem to be dripping with exquisite black diamonds. They're layered at her throat and rest gracefully against her exposed sternum and dangle rather haphazardly from her earlobes. Her hair is parted deeply to the side and then swirled up; it's rare for me to see a woman with such short hair but once again, it fits her perfectly. Her eyes are smudged with black makeup although her lips seem to be paled out a bit; this puzzles me slightly because it makes it lends to the illusion as though she's ill.

_But what do I know about women's makeup?_

"Thank you. For once my stylist was able to get it right," she says with a roll of her eyes.

I nod, yet again not knowing how to respond.

"So, how are you liking the festivities?" she asks, cocking her head slightly.

"Weddings are done differently back home… as I'm sure the same goes for your district. I'm not really sure what to expect," I reply semi-truthfully.

She nods, pursing her lips together.

"Are you close to the bride?"

"Yes."

She nods again before glancing around us.

"I'm not going to lie, I'm not Everdeen's biggest fan but nobody deserves to get married to him," she says in a low tone.

I blink, feeling shock at her brazen words in public.

"Wouldn't you agree?" she asks, tilting her head to the other side.

"Well, I'm very much a fan of Katniss but I definitely agree with the rest."

She gives me a satisfied smile before looking at Finnick.

"Where's Annie?" she asks, craning her neck to look around.

A look of disappointment crosses Finnick's face before shrugging a shoulder.

"She hasn't been feeling well," he answers simply.

Johanna nods and gently pats Finnick's shoulder.

_Annie, who's Annie? Wait a minute… could it be Annie Cresta? The victor who went mad after she watched her district partner get beheaded?_

Music begins to swell from inside the garden and people begin to murmur animatedly.

"Looks like it's almost time," Haymitch says, seemingly appearing from thin air.

"Don't do that!" I gasp, clutching at my chest.

While Haymitch would usually snicker or tease me, he just looks around worriedly.

"Peeta! Haymitch!"

"Ah, Effie's dulcet tones," he cracks.

She appears before us, looking breathless.

"You two need to stay here while the rest of the guests sit down."

Haymitch and I trade a glance but just shrug. Johanna and Finnick bid us goodbye before telling us that they'll save us a good seat. I smile and wave, thanking them before turning back to Effie.

In place of her usual cotton candy pink wig, a grey one takes its place. But it doesn't seem to be ordinary grey; there are strands that shine silver in the sunlight, right along with the pastel-hued feathers and flowers tucked into her hair. Instead of aging her, it just makes her look even more whimsical than usual. She wears a tight-fitting long and grey dress although that too, has pastel embellishments. She has glittering multi-colored (pastel) diamonds jingling on her wrists and on her neck while her earlobes seem to be bare.

"Effie, you look very nice," I tell her.

A pinched expression leaves her face and a smile soon takes over.

"Why, thank you Peeta! I had my hair done especially for this occasion," she preens, patting the side of her head lightly.

"It looks fetching," Haymitch grins toothily at her.

Her smile falls flat for a moment as she turns to him.

"Thank you," she says stiffly. "If you excuse me, some people don't seem to realize that the wedding is about to begin… stay here."

"Woof," Haymitch snickers.

I glare at him and watch her wrangle all the straying guests into the garden. She finally comes back to our side and sighs.

"As stimulating as all of this is, there are always people who can't help but ruin things for others. This is why we can't have nice things," she murmurs, giving Haymitch a pointed look.

He just smiles wolfishly at her although she pays him no mind.

"Ah… there she is. How absolutely lovely," she simpers, letting out a dreamy sigh.

Haymitch snaps his head to look at Katniss and a smug grin appears on his face.

"You remember that bet we made, boy?"

"I'm assuming you're referring to the one I just lost?" I ask wryly.

"Why would you assume that?" he asks, plastering a shocked expression on.

"Because you look like a cat who just ate the canary."

"Peeta, really… what horrid expression," Effie chastises distractedly.

She's watching Katniss approach in rapt attention although I have yet to look at her too.

"Well, would you look at that? Our sweetheart looking like a real heartbreaker," Haymitch says, wolf whistling.

But Katniss just remains silent.

"President Snow is already in the garden so now you'll just need to be—"

"Herded," Haymitch cuts in.

"—lead in," she finishes, as though nobody interrupted.

I take a deep breath and turn around, feeling my eyes widen when I take her in with all of her bridal gear. Surely enough, as Haymitch predicted, the fits-her-like-a-glove dress won. I can certainly see why; although it's form-fitting and there's laces panels covering sexy places, Katniss still looks incredibly refined. Of course, the cut-out from her back is something else…

"Katniss, you look…" I sigh, feeling legitimately speechless.

Although her face looks pale and her eyes a bit glassy, she still focuses them on me and gives me a look full of disbelief.

"You saw me in this dress already," she huffs.

"It doesn't take away from the fact that you look spectacular."

She swallows and licks her lips.

"Thank you, Peeta," she tells me softly.

"Okay, it's almost time to go in," Effie announces.

Katniss nods jerkily, straightening her posture and clearing her face of expression. Haymitch does the same, although I'm not sure if he's teasing her or he's genuinely nervous. He steps next to her and offers her his arm.

"Wait, no," Effie says, gently pushing him out of the way.

We all look at her in confusion.

"What do you mean 'no'? Haymitch's the one who's supposed to walk me down the aisle. It was all decided ahead of time," Katniss speaks up, color flaring into her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Katniss, but there's been a last minute change of plans. President Snow himself instructed me that Peeta is to walk you down the aisle," she announces dutifully.

Katniss' mouth falls open, as does Haymitch and I'm more than sure I look the same way.

"But… Haymitch…" she sputters, giving me a panicked look.

"Haymitch, you should probably go take a seat now," Effie tells him quietly.

He nods tersely before turning to Katniss and engulfing her in a hug. She clings to him and it seems like he's whispering something to her because she keeps nodding her head. They pull away and he presses a kiss on her forehead before turning away and walking into the garden.

"I'm going to take a seat now but Katniss knows when it's her cue to walk in," she says in the same dejected tone.

She gives Katniss a tight hug before pulling away and sniffling, walking into the garden.

So now it's just the two of us left here.

A surge of adrenaline suddenly rushes through me and I turn to her, grabbing her arm urgently.

"Katniss, let's run away," I whisper to her.

She turns to me, eyes wide and disbelieving.

"_What?_"

"Let's leave all of this behind," I tell her fervently.

Her eyes look around wildly before settling on my own once more. For the most fleeting of seconds, there's a hopeful look in her eye that only encourages my own. But then she lets out a soft breath, shaking her head rapidly.

"They'd catch us before I could even say _yes_," she mumbles, looking down.

My heart catches in my throat but I can't take it too personally.

"You're right. It was a horrible idea," I chuckle hollowly.

She looks at me from under her eyelashes, her eyes a molten pewter.

"It's the thought that counts," she says, her voice below a whisper.

I let out a breath, trying to steady my heartbeat. I can still feel her eyes on me but I avoid looking back at her lest I spew yet another idiotic idea.

"Well…" she whispers, looping her left arm through my right one.

"You're strong, Katniss. Despite everything you're feeling, you _can_ and _will_ get through this," I whisper back to her, squeezing her hand. "Remember that you'll always have us on your side, even if we're apart."

She lets out a soft whimper and clutches my arm tightly.

"Let's get you safe, hmm?"

She takes in a deep breath before starting to walk forward.

_This must be the cue. Don't trip, Mellark._

We step into the garden, which had been closed off, presumably so nobody could see how it was decorated before the wedding itself. I've got to admit, I'm incredibly impressed despite myself.

There are twinkling lights strung upon the trees and in the rosebushes themselves, giving everything a magical air. We're currently walking down a red velvet carpet, which is littered with white rose petals and lead to where the officiant stands. There's a group of musicians off to the side, which is the source of the music. There are individual chairs for the guests, who are currently standing and ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the bride (naturally). The backs of the chairs are covered by a white piece of cloth, presumably silk, and there's a neat bow hung at the base of the seat.

I spot Finnick and Johanna in the crowd, a mix of resentment and distress in their faces. Haymitch watches us with a miserable expression on his face and I can almost see his fingers twitching toward the direction of his flask. Although Effie wears a smile on her face, her eyes look distant and cheerless as well. I manage to give them all a tight little smile to let them know that I'll be fine and finally turn to the front.

Snow and I lock our eyes on each other; there's a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth and it infuriates me.

_That bastard, how dare you put her through anymore pain? Hasn't she done enough, sacrificed enough?_

But I just brace myself and grin at him, as though it's my greatest pleasure in life to give Katniss away to a piece of vermin like himself. I can feel Katniss quake next to me, her breathing growing shallow.

_Come on, Katniss. You can do this. I believe in you. We all do. We're all right behind you._

We finally reach and Katniss gives me one last squeeze before I smile and get ready to literally hand her over to him. We stop and she turns to me, wrapping her arms around me in a brief hug. I give her an encouraging smile and before I can help myself, lean over to brush a kiss on her cheek. Her eyes are wide and her lower lip trembles slightly while I give her the brightest smile I can muster. This seems to give her the strength she needs because she nods ever so slightly and gives me something that could pass off as a smile in return. I grab her hand, giving it a swift squeeze before placing it in his old and decrepit one. I look him squarely in the eye and although my smile is innocuous enough, I can see the fire in mine reflected in his.

_It may not be today or even anytime soon, but there __**will**__ come a day when you will receive your rightful comeuppance, Snow. And although I'm against hurting people, you're one of the few that deserve to spend the rest of your life in the deepest bowels of hell._

"Take care of her," I joke lightly.

Katniss and I lock eyes one last time and then I go and sit next to Finnick, who claps a hand onto my shoulder.

Finally the wedding commences.

To my everlasting surprise, Katniss remains still as a statue despite being seated at such proximity to Snow. Not once does she fidget or look away. I can almost see the intense look in her eye as she wills herself to get through this ordeal. Then again, the future and well-being of her loved ones rests on this performance.

I can vaguely hear the officiant speaking since I keep reciting different recipes for bread and cakes through my head as to avoid listening to him talk about the "love" between her and Snow.

I do, however, notice how Johanna keeps fidgeting and scoffing, murmuring what I don't doubt to be obscenities under her breath. There are times when Finnick has to hiss at her to stay still and be quiet, pressing his hand atop her knee so she can stop jingling her foot. Finnick, on the other hand, seems to be paying attention although there's a glazed over look in his eyes. His body may be here in the Capitol, but I don't doubt that his heart is somewhere in District 4. Haymitch is surprisingly still, not even tapping his fingers against his knee like he usually does. Effie, on the other hand, despite her earlier behavior is listening in rapt attention. I turn to look at Johanna once more and see her watching me and gives a twist of her lips, her version of a smile.

_What does she see when she looks at me? Do I look as fidgety as her? Is there a lifeless look in my eyes? Is it obvious that I'd much rather literally be anywhere but here?_

I can't help but admire that streak of rebelliousness in Johanna. Of course, I realize that it's never safe to be overtly defiant of Snow or the Capitol. If Snow's treatment of Katniss tells me anything, it's obvious that he likes to keep the rest of his victors on a short leash.

I go back to narrating recipes in my head, this time starting with macaroons. I'm about to (mentally) dollop raspberry filling onto parchment paper when a low sound catches my attention. I look toward the front and catch sight of Katniss holding hands with Snow; bile rises in my throat but that anger simmers down when I realize that it's Katniss making the sound. She opens her mouth again and an even lovelier sound emanates as I grasp the fact that she's singing her wedding vows to him. I try my best not to pay attention to her actual words and focus on the sound of her voice; it's clear but somewhat husky and flows to a sweet tone. I can hear the collective gasp of the crowd as her voice rises several octaves, never once sounding pitchy or even off-tune.

_She's definitely her father's daughter. I remember how he used to sing as he made his way to the woods at the crack of dawn. The birds would always stop and listen, mimicking him. _

Her voice lulls me and I can actually feel my body relax. Even Johanna's stopped fidgeting and Finnick looks downright aghast, mouth hanging open slightly. Although there are no murmurs, there's an excited buzz in the air. I suddenly remember that we're being televised and there's no doubt in my mind that everybody else is as astounded as this crowd is.

Her voice takes on a melancholy tone, effectively giving me goose bumps and she finally comes to a stop. She gives Snow a long look before forcing her lips into a smile while he looks at her arrogantly, somehow passing off the look as one of adoration. I see how the officiant opens his mouth to speak, so I tune him out again.

It's as if Katniss had us under a spell because Johanna continues with her fidgeting and Finnick back into the safety of his mind while Haymitch just stares blankly.

"—I now pronounce you, husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride."

I'm startled out of my thoughts as I steady myself to witness one of the most disgusting acts possible. But instead of kissing Katniss' lips, Snow mercifully takes her left hand and presses a kiss on her knuckles. I let relief fill me and the crowd begins to cheer loudly, just in time for Johanna to gag noisily. Music begins to swell and Katniss stiffly tucks her hand into the crook of Snow's arm, smiling at the crowd. Her eyes lock onto mine for the briefest of seconds before looking away, waving at the guests with her other hand.

The garden starts to become empty and soon the only ones left are Finnick, Johanna, Haymitch and me. We just sit there quietly, listening to the happy sounds that come from the other side of the walls.

"Can't we just stay here?" Johanna pipes up, propping her high-heeled clad feet on the chair before her.

Finnick just chuckles, shaking his head while Haymitch looks nothing short of desirous.

"If only there was booze in here," he sighs.

"Come on, you know Effie will be in here in no less than a minute to tell us to make way to the ballroom," Finnick says, standing up and smoothing down his coat.

"Always the party pooper, Finn," Johanna says, glaring up at him.

She straightens her posture and rises slowly, huffing and rolling her eyes all the while.

Surely enough, Effie pops in and smiles when she sees we're all standing.

"Great, you're all up. Come on, now… everybody's entering the ballroom already," she says, clapping her hands lightly. "I've heard it looks _magnificent_."

We all start to make our way out of the garden when Johanna knocks down a few chairs on purpose, of course.

"Haymitch, are you coming or what?" she asks, bringing him to Effie's attention.

She whirls around and purses her lips in disapproval.

"Well?" Effie presses.

"I'm coming, I'm coming… there's no need to nag me, woman," he sighs, standing up reluctantly and following us.

The double doors to the ballroom are wide open, a garland of white roses and twinkling lights decorating the edges.

I take a deep breath and step inside, feeling both impressed and overwhelmed by the sight before me.

* * *

Thank you for reading. As always, reviews are appreciated but following and favorite-ing my story are just as good. See you all soon. :)


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